|








 |
In most LA neighborhoods there's alternate side of the street
cleaning, twice a week. You'd better move your car before 10 AM or
you can get towed. The neighborhood we were planning to walk through
today was a Wednesday cleaning day, and it was Wednesday ... and
with everybody parked on the other side of the street, there was no
place to park anywhere close. We had to drive around for 30 minutes
before we found a spot, almost a block off Sunset. Bummer. Have to
take that into account next time.
So we started near
Gower Gulch. The place got its name
because it used to be the home of what was called the "Poverty Row"
studios back in the silent film days of Hollywood. Every day
hundreds of real cowboys in from Texas and Arizona stood around on
the streets, hoping to get parts as extras in a shoot-'em-up
two-reeler.

These were the really interesting days of Hollywood, to me, anyway,
as excellently chronicled in
Peter Bogdanovich's
Nickelodeon. It was a wild
a woolly time, with fly-by-night film producers fleeing the movie
capital of the world—New Jersey!—because of the
Edison patent wars, coming out to
sunny California where there were no private detectives ready to
confiscate your camera. Anybody could form a "studio" and start
making movies.
These films were made by companies with names like
Republic,
Monogram,
First National,
Reliable,
Mascot,
Chesterfield,
Biograph,
Grand National, World
Wide,
Tiffany, and
Ambassador. Then there were
Universal, which
later became a "major," and
Columbia, which never quite left Poverty
Row.
These were the days before stars. The studios didn't want their
actors to have names, feeling quite rightly that they'd ask for more
money. But the public wouldn't have it. They began to ask
distributors when the next picture starring the "Biograph Girl"
would be playing at the local grind. That turned out to be
Miss Florence Lawrence (who had a
fascinating life), and who became the first star and paved the way
for
Charlie Chaplin and
Rudolph Valentino and
Mary Pickford and all
the rest.
All that's left of those old barns is the Sunset-Gower Studios,
which looks pretty new to me.
Paramount is just a little to the
south, and
Tribune Entertainment Studios is further east on Sunset,
but it looks new, too, despite trying to look like Tara. And the
name Gower Gulch is preserved in a little shopping center that looks
like it would be more at home in Las Vegas, far off the Strip, than
LA. There's a medicine wagon and some footprints in concrete and
paintings of Buffalo Bill and others, all built around a Rite-Aid.
One of the plaques honors
Hal Roach, of
Little Rascals fame. (Darla
Hood is interred a few blocks south of there, in
Hollywood Forever
Cemetery, which we plan to visit on the next sunny day. Lee loves
cemeteries. I promise you some great pictures!) (Johnny and
Dee Dee Ramone are there, and
CB deMille, among many others.)
On the way back we passed by the Hollywood Home Depot. The usual
number of short, stocky brown men were hanging around outside,
looking to get picked up for casual labor, paid in cash, no need to
fill out a W-2. (Wink, wink!) Dozens of them, all smiling and
friendly as we walked by. There was an interviewer and cameraman for
KCET there that day, asking them questions about (I presume; I don't
speak Spanish) the current immigration debate. None of them seemed
shy about being on camera, and they were speaking quite
passionately. What a mess that all is.
April 30, 2006
|