'Love Rules - Silent Hollywood and the Rise of the Managerial
Class' by Mark Garrett Cooper (Minneapolis and London: University
of Minnesota Press, 2003. ISBN 0-8166-3753-9. 15 illustrations. x + 279
pp. £15.20)
This review formed part of a longer review essay which first appeared
in the June 2006 issue of SCOPE- The Online Journal of Film Studies
Mark Garrett Cooper, in Love Rules -- Silent Hollywood and the Rise
of the Managerial Class, presents an intriguingly specialist link
between American socio-economic development and the rise of the motion
picture. Taking the archetypal Hollywood heterosexual white love story
as his example, the author argues that ‘Hollywood cinema helped change
who could rule and how rule would be conducted’(216). The ideology of
the love story, he argues, was organised by a managerial class who
sought to use it to illustrate their emergence, mastery and ultimate
dominance. This main thesis is spread over four chapters. After a
reasonably lengthy introduction (where the author cites the over-rated Sleepless
in Seattle as a modern example of the Hollywood love story uniting
the heterosexual couple across space and time), subsequent sections
deal with ‘The Visual Love Story’, ‘The Public’, ‘The Influence
Industry’and ‘Ethnic Management’. These chapters (around forty pages
each) are supplemented by a conclusion and copious notes to each
chapter, showing an abundance of consulted reference material. Despite
this, as with Early Cinema -- From Factory Gate to Dream Factory,
the hypothesis put forward is clouded in a rhetoric that proves rather
too dense. True, the subject-matter and Mark Garrett Cooper’s ‘take’on
it is far from straightforward, but even the introduction to the book
makes the initial impression that this will be a hard-going volume.
‘The Hollywood love story’, it declares, ‘posed a question of authority
and answered it’(5). It is really without possible debate that the
inclusion of the romance was (and still is) key to Hollywood
storytelling, but if all genres and styles of film-making (especially
within the ‘Classical’timeframe that the author discusses) were
reducible to less an expectation or desire but a pure cast-iron
certainty, films would long since have lost their appeal. It is the
author’s reluctance to frame his arguments in a clearly ordered fashion
and the way he challenges (or simply dismisses) influential critics
that makes Love Rules’ less of a powerful polemic requiring a
sea-change of interpretation but a book whose ultimate merit is rather
more questionable.
An example of this unnecessary double standard of challenging existing
criticism whilst failing to provide any coherent substitute appears as
early as page twelve, where Mark Garrett Cooper refers to David
Bordwell’s ‘sweeping critique’and that Bordwell’s [narrative] model
falls short when it fails to recognize that the love story does not
happen ‘in space as much as to space’(12). So, an alternative
‘reading’is posited here by Mark Garrett Cooper, who does not, however,
provide a logical substantiated argument for this peculiar ‘to
space’concept. Another potential problem for the author is his analysis
of leading filmic texts, chosen from Hollywood’s silent screen era.
Thus, when discussing The Crowd (King Vidor, 1928), Mark
Garrett Cooper largely omits ‘conventional’cinematographic analysis in
favour of a sociological approach -- the closing scene apparently
‘suggests that John finally fits in’and that it also ‘annuls the
opposition between individual and mass with which it began’(83). In
fact, the film includes the conventional ‘happy ending’despite its
tragic dissolution of John’s ambition and desire to be different, and
not to ‘fit in’. The closing scene is also cyclical in its situation of
John within space, harking back to the opening of the film and
representing visually a potentially downbeat (if ‘realistic’)
conclusion -- John is still part of the crowd despite his desire to
escape from it. So, despite his best efforts to coerce The Crowd
to adapt to his polemic, the author only succeeds in making the reader
rather dissatisfied with his analysis.
In an interesting chapter on ‘Ethnic Management’, Mark Garrett Cooper’s
desire for rhetoric at the expense of brevity and clarity again
emerges- ‘sound that appears embodied locates itself in a space
irreducible to the frame’(163) -- but his penchant for contentious
statements is also present ‘‘to grasp The Jazz Singer‘s
significance requires an appreciation for just how controversial Jewish
identity was at the time’(175). So, the sound technology employed in
the film and its fascinating use of Jolson as star are not as
significant as this concept of Jewish identity? The film is remembered
today as being (in crude terms) ‘the first sound film’(by this read:
first film to include a portion of sound), not in terms of identity,
Jewish or otherwise.
Then, as Love Rules’ draws to its wordy conclusion, Mark
Garrett Cooper describes the link often forged between films like The
Cheat (DeMille, 1915) and the ‘low-key’Chiaroscuro lighting
prevalent in German Expressionism through to Film Noir (interestingly
side-stepping French poetic realism). Then, whilst the reader is still
feeling a sense of injustice at this challenge to their rational
thinking, the author astonishes with his statement that ‘in film
appreciation classes’the Odessa Steps sequence of The Battleship
Potemkin provides a staple example of ‘good’editing, quite apart
from a consideration of why one might require montage to represent a
revolution’(209), which makes one wonder exactly what he is trying to
articulate.
In attempting to sum up his arguments, Mark Garrett Cooper ultimately
states that ‘It [Hollywood] represented a world that professionally
trained specialists would necessarily vie to depict and order’(216),
which is a fairly explicit reference to the Studio System and the
dominant mode of production which would organise the production of
films throughout the period the author in fact discusses until its
breakdown following the Paramount Decrees in 1948. That the moguls who
controlled the studios vied to depict ‘a world’in a fairly homogenous
fashion as a white middle to upper class (the author would insert
‘managerial class’here, no doubt) heterosexual one is an interesting
concept, but rather too monolithic. It is, in fact, like assuming that
genre films follow a basic pattern that is repeated ad nauseam or that
a star image like that of (for example) Rudolph Valentino could only be
utilised to play a particular type of character. It is a dangerous
avenue to assume aspects of film history are set in stone as monolithic
creations, never changing and all forging one purpose. However, in his
conclusion to Love Rules’ Mark Garrett Cooper does exactly
that.
'Love Rules - Silent Hollywood and the Rise of the Managerial
Class' is published by the University of Minnesota Press.
University of Minnesota Press
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