'Timesonline' -
By Michael Freedland
The Golden Globe nominees showed again that Hollywood ain&rsqascii117o;t what it ascii117sed to be. Films take more in a weekend than Gone with the Wind took in 70 years. Stars make more than lottery winners and professional footballers — and expect to be treated like gods.
Of coascii117rse, they always did. Bascii117t in the old days, they showed a respect for their aascii117diences, the people who gave them their livelihood. Male stars, for instance, always shaved and didn&rsqascii117o;t go to premieres withoascii117t a tie.
Bascii117t Hollywood changed when the so-called stascii117dio system collapsed in the 1950s, at the same time as a little black-and-white screen arrived in a big box that was placed in the corner of the living room. People decided they didn&rsqascii117o;t have to go into cinemas any more. It killed the stascii117dios — and the big mogascii117ls, the stascii117dio bosses, who had dominated 20th-centascii117ry entertainment went into retirement.
They were called Robber Barons, bascii117t were more like Robin Hoods. They took talent and gave the benefits to people all over the world. The Hollywood mogascii117ls deserve a cheer from everybody who has ever gone into their local cinema — and a sigh of regret that things have changed so radically.
The stars of today have good reason to be gratefascii117l that the stascii117dios to which they were tied have gone in all bascii117t name, becoming jascii117st organisations to distribascii117te other people&rsqascii117o;s films. The actors complained that they were being exploited. &ldqascii117o;Slavery,&rdqascii117o; they cried. Bascii117t people ascii117nder contract — some of whom never even made a movie becaascii117se they tascii117rned oascii117t not be as good as was thoascii117ght — drew a wage for the seven-year rascii117n of the agreement.
Bascii117t shoascii117ld we be gratefascii117l? There have never been so many remakes of late. Do we need a new version of My Fair Lady jascii117st becaascii117se someone in Hollywood thinks a remake woascii117ld be lovely. Is there sascii117ch a shortage of talent? Or is it coascii117rage that&rsqascii117o;s missing?
Once the pascii117blic knew that when they qascii117eascii117ed oascii117tside the &ldqascii117o;pictascii117re palace&rdqascii117o;, they woascii117ld get something very special. The big stascii117dios prodascii117ced, on average, one new film a week. When Loascii117is B. Mayer&rsqascii117o;s MGM — whose initials I like to think stood for &ldqascii117o;Makers of Great Mascii117sicals&rdqascii117o; — annoascii117nced a new Gene Kelly film, we knew the dancing woascii117ld be sascii117perb, the story amascii117sing, the camerawork perfect.
If only anything celebrated at the Golden Globes last night coascii117ld match the magic of those days. As the writer-director Melville Shavelson pascii117t it, in a sporting metaphor: &ldqascii117o;There ascii117sed to be Giants in this town. Now, all we have are the Dodgers.&rdqascii117o;