EXECUTIVE SUITE (MGM, 1954) Warner Home Video
“It is always up there, close to the clouds, on the
topmost floors of the sky-reaching towers of big business. And because it is high in the sky, you may
think that those who work there are somehow above and beyond the tensions and
temptations of the lower floors. This is to say, that it isn’t so!”
-
preamble to Executive
Suite
Robert Wise’s Executive Suite (1954) is a superior,
if glittering all-star, de-glamorization of life at the top – or rather, on
top of all those imposing monuments built by the captains of industry to stroke
their self-indulgent and overweening egos. What originally played as a
cautionary tale about the corrosive attitude of corporate greed, narrowly
conspiring to topple trademarked American institutions of yore, has since
revealed itself to be a fatalist epitaph to the Achilles Heel of American
businesses en masse, far too many in very steep decline. In the intervening
decades the integrity of manufacturing, as both a cornerstone and colossus of
the American experience, has been systematically broken down to bedrock. Consider: who in 1954, could have foretold of
a nation without the monopolies of Ma’ Bell, Sears or even MGM, as the
dominants within their respective fields of operation? And further still, who
today remembers what it was like to have unwavering faith in a product or the
industry that made it? In hindsight, Executive
Suite remains the proverbial Ides of March for big business.
The movie’s
abortive commentary on shoring up ‘trickle
down from the top’ corruption is a crisis narrowly avoided by Ernest
Lehman’s undeniably victorious ‘happy ending’ for all concerned. The good guys
win. If only virtue were its own reward. If only… Yet, no such reprieve ever
presented its calling card in real life – or perhaps, has, only to be repeatedly
rebuked, ignored or unceremoniously paved over by sycophants, eager for their
paychecks though not much else. Such ‘yes men’ continue to cater to the ‘rich dummy’ sect of
Harvard graduates, having stepped off the college-bound assembly line and into
these corporate boardrooms, only to realize too late they lack the ‘common
sense’ wherewithal to do anything more than micromanage. These vast empires were created by less educated, though more wily and ambitious puppet masters, now
either decamped or dead, and their absences since have sunk a great many time-honored titans of
capitalism into the muck and mire of red ink. It is grotesquely shocking, in
fact, how quickly and easily a seemingly Teflon-coated empire can become
worm-eaten and rife for a corporate take-over. One need only look to the
2008-10 auto crisis to see how close to oblivion a major cornerstone of
American industry came and acknowledge just how precariously little continues
to separate the auto industry’s ‘recovery’ from another fiscal implosion. The
uncertainty of America’s corporate future is a malaise still very much ‘with
us’ making Executive Suite not
simply a movie relevant to today, but foreseeable as a flashing red neon sign
post about dangers never again to be abated.
Based on Cameron
Hawley’s novel, Executive Suite’s
screenplay by Ernest Lehman might just as well have been referencing the inner
office chaos infesting MGM's boardroom since the ousting of Louis B. Mayer in
1950. By mid-decade, Metro was already in its slow, sad, and regrettably steady
decline. Smelling blood in the water, the other studios, struggling in their
own right, nevertheless rallied to bypass the biggest and finest of them all;
MGM’s product becoming cheap and homogenized by direct comparison. The climax to
Executive Suite is a showdown
between two competing philosophies; the first, to insidiously promote a
business acumen for the Tredway Furniture Manufacturing Corp., both of the
moment, and, in the moment - simply to satisfy its stockholders; the other, a
long-term investment of capital, time, effort and integrity in service to
improving the company’s output, entrusting its future to the public at large,
and thus ensuring its reputation for quality endures. A reputation is, in fact,
a very curious commodity; once sold – or rather – sold out – never again to
earn back the respect it once held dear, seemingly in perpetuity. What
satisfies a stockholder in the moment does not, in fact, enrich the longevity
of the corporation. Instead, it undercuts the innate and far-reaching value of
any company, merely to make a quick buck today before pulling out.
The uncannily similar malaise
inflicting Hollywood throughout the 1950’s was hardly exclusive to MGM, and, by
late 1959 would only become increasingly corrosive to the dwindling brain trusts
in corporations all across America. The message, clear enough – profits
up/quality down – is thus presented in the movie by the enterprising Loren
Phineas Shaw (Fredric March), who emphatically insists a corporation ‘of today’
must be a financial institution first, yielding the highest and safest return
on investment to its stockholders, with manufacturing and selling as mere
afterthoughts. Shaw’s viewpoint is an anathema to McDonald 'Don' Walling’s (William
Holden) state of siege. If all that is required of a corporation is that it maintain
the satisfaction of its stockholders – and customers be damned – then why must
its President be a man of integrity? After all, with his own position and
pension assured, where is his incentive to do better…even, to do right by the
company itself or the employees who toil in it for him?
And indeed,
Walling pointedly illustrates that only to focus on satisfying stockholders’
dividends now, such shortsightedness in grabbing for the quick and easy, will hasten the natural and steady decline of the Tredway Corp. going into the
future. “Sometimes you have to use your
profits for the growth of the company,” Walling suggests, “…and not pay them all out in dividends to
impress the stockholders with your management record. There’s your waste, Shaw!
There’s your inefficiency! Stop growing and you die. Turn your back on
experimentation and planning for tomorrow…because they don’t contribute to
dividends today and you won’t have a tomorrow…because there won’t be any
company! The force behind a great company has to be more than the pride of one
man. It has to be the pride of thousands! You can’t make men work for money
alone. You starve their souls when you try it. And you can starve a company to
death the same way!” Executive Suite
is not readily ranked or even voted on as among the top pictures of its
generation – an oversight, to be sure, since its precepts are as universal as
any ever put forth in a motion picture of its time – for all time. And further
the point, it remains a movie as stirring in its performances and entertainment
value as in its judgment call on the sad recognition of making changes for change’s
sake alone, already afflicting the social fabric of corporate America at large
in 1954.
Gone, it seems, are
the hallmarks of sturdy craftsmanship, giving way to streamlined mass
production under the most deliberate cost-cutting measures, strictly designed
to boost profits at the expense of engineering new products, not built to last. In
effect, Executive Suite reveals the
hidden pitfalls of becoming too rich too fast, and, making goods cheaply to satisfy
spreadsheets rather than the consumer base. Sacrificing tried and proven
traditions, even at the expense of the corporation’s own longevity, merely to
glean an immediate return on investment, Executive
Suite’s commentary on where this uniquely situated American
mindset is headed is hauntingly predictive and, in our post-modern age, even more
clairvoyant and disturbing. Even as the picture is rightly situated as the
purveyor of a truth as yet to be fully revealed with the passage of time, it is
nevertheless equally as powerless to stave off the corporate apocalypse that
has long since followed it.
In Hollywood in
general, and particularly at MGM, this diseased edict had already begun to take
effect with the homogenized 'look' of Metro’s film output; Mayer and Thalberg’s
decree to 'do things big and give them class' downsized under the newly
appointed management of Dore Schary. The
MGM that barely saw out the 1950’s, and, could not survive the onslaught of costlier
and more uniquely tailored roadshow ‘event movies’ of the 1960’s, was an odd
disconnect by design, apart from and grotesquely foreign to the Mayer/Thalberg
regime and philosophy. Only in hindsight, is Metro’s malaise mirrored by the
executives of the Tredway Corp.; buttoned-down conservatives, competing within an
artistic vacuum; the queer amalgam of Tudor sets recycled from MGM’s Young Bess (1953, and later to reappear
yet again in 1973's Westworld as 'medieval'
recreations) as the uber-chic trappings of 50's postwar Americana; ancient exemplars
of the all-American middle-class household, circa the Eisenhower era.
Lehman’s
screenplay for Executive Suite
begins with the aforementioned indictment of this executive board room
mentality, puncturing the balloon of its hypocrisy from the start. The knell
from the bell tower that immediately follows this narration, and plays over the
titles without musical accompaniment, foreshadows the death of the soon to be
revealed Tredway Corporation’s visionary president, Avery Bullard (Raoul
Freeman) as well as the demise of all creative freedom and experimentation
wrought under his tutelage. This latter interpretation is only possible through
hindsight – a distance of some 60 plus years since the film’s general release
and bearing out its hypotheses. In this regard, Executive Suite is one of the most far-sighted movies to emerge
from Hollywood, and, at a time when bigger, splashier escapism in color and
Cinemascope had become the norm. Corporate America has since 'lived down' to the morality imparted in
Lehman's screenplay, best embodied in William Holden's forthright defender of
Tredway's legacy; the sharp young mind of tomorrow, usurping the willfully
arrogant old guard, typified by the irresponsibly neurotic and perpetually
sweaty Fredric March.
Poor Fredric
March; his penultimate career in Hollywood having regressed to playing morally
ambiguous, to downright reprehensible second fiddles to the more prominent
and rising stars in his midst. March ought to have had a more prolific career
as the all-American. Certainly, his early matinee idol good looks seemed to
foreshadow a promising career as 'leading man' material. But by the mid-forties
the actor was already being typecast as the devious plotter. By the fifties, March
is in full flourish as the thoroughly disreputable and slimy, even more sadly
misguided, bastard we simply love to hate. At his most laconic, he typifies the
sort of man one wishes would just step aside to make way for the seemingly more
'progressive' and promising concepts put forth by actual 'leading man' material.
And truthfully, we are with Bill Holden's robust family man every step of the
way, despite his briefly strained marriage to June Allyson's 'Suzie Cream
Cheese’ from the suburbs, fashionably attired in poodle skirts and angora
sweaters, the 'little woman'
refreshingly possessing a mind of her own and wed to Allyson's inimitable charm
and raspy/feminine voice.
Viewed alongside
the fifties' yen for glossier entertainments, Executive Suite is all the more unvarnished and undiluted in its
apocalyptic vision for tomorrow’s template of a failing corporate America. True
to the 1950's, the film’s dénouement restores order to this chaos. Tredway is
spared the indignation of ineffectual management. Yet, the picture also reveals
a fundamental truth about most any organization. It is only as good as its management; the workers powerless
to impact decisions made at the top that will undeniably affect the company as
a whole and their own livelihoods in particular. In its final moments, William
Holden’s man of personal integrity, McDonald ‘Don’ Walling turns to his wife,
Mary (June Allyson) to inquire about his son’s little league ballgame; asking “who won?” “We did!” she merrily chirps
as they stroll toward the elevators. But who is ‘we’? Superficially, Mary is referencing the ballgame, and perhaps the
couple’s marriage, the strain lifted with Don’s appointment to the leadership
of Tredway as the late Avery Bullard’s valiant successor. Most certainly, Tredway
narrowly dodged a catastrophe by appointing Don to the Presidential post. Shaw’s
bean-counting would have outlasted his own time in the ceremonial post. But
these cost-cutting measures, while attractive on paper, would likely have
cheapened the public’s appreciation for Tredway product in the future.
Executive Suite begins with Avery Bullard’s fatal collapse
on a hot afternoon in New York City. Robert Wise has made an interesting choice
to use the ‘first person’ point-of-view (POV) for Bullard (we only see his
hands and briefly glimpse his body being shrouded by a tarp as he is carried
away on a stretcher). This POV implies autonomy; precisely what the above-average
corporate executive in America today has – isolated from all, except the top
management decisions that will dictate daily activities for an entire company,
and impact far too many worker bees he will ostensibly never meet; a real
disconnect between the living realities of Tredway’s daily operations and the boardroom
badinage threatening to eat away at his company’s innate value from the inside
out. Moments before his untimely demise, Bullard sends a cablegram to his
corporate offices in Millburgh, Pennsylvania to call for an executive meeting.
This hints at the notion Bullard has finally decided to appoint a new executive
Vice President who will oversee a new trajectory for his company’s future.
After his death,
a bystander steals Bullard’s wallet. Thus, when the police and an ambulance
arrive they are left to deal with a ‘John Doe’. The absence of any proper
identification is counter-intuitive to the purposes of wily investment banker,
George Caswell (Louis Calhern) who, having witnessed Bullard’s death from his
high rise window, plots to make a quick buck from it. He orders his broker to
make a short sale of 3700 units of preferred Tredway stock, assuming he will be
able to cover the sale Monday morning at a ten-point discount when news of
Bullard’s death reaches the exchange. But when the papers fail to report
Bullard’s death Caswell decides to do an anonymous tip-off to expedite the
identification of the body. News of Bullard's fate reaches Millburgh where
company controller, Loren Shaw moves swiftly to coordinate the funeral and
handle the ‘official reaction’ in the press. Shaw also releases the company’s
quarterly reports to counteract the negative reaction stockholders are likely
to have.
On the surface,
Shaw is a model of efficiency. But this devious gargoyle never does anything
out of the goodness of his heart. As a matter of record, Shaw’s quick thinking
has all but sidelined the stature and confidence of Tredway’s treasurer, Frederick
Y. Alderson (Walter Pigeon); Bullard’s right-hand man and presumed – though
never officially appointed successor. What transpires over the next forty-eight
hours will ultimately save or sink Tredway’s future. Bullard’s private
secretary, Erica Martin (Nina Foch) prepares for the selection of potential
candidates. Shaw considers himself the front runner, using his clout to call in
markers, gaining the proxy of shares belonging to Julia Tredway (Barbara
Stanwyck); the daughter of the founder who was having a torrid affair with
Avery Bullard that went sour. Shaw also gains an ally in Caswell in exchange
for purchasing 4,000 shares of stock to cover his short sale, thereby sparing
his own financial ruin.
Alderson aligns
his marker with Don who is Vice President in charge of Design and Development.
Don would prefer to spend his time developing the company’s next generation of
products at ground level. Alas, he realizes that with Shaw at the helm his
department will likely be shuttered for good. On the home front, Mary
encourages Don against sacrificing his dreams. Meanwhile veteran Vice President
of Manufacturing, Jesse Grimm (Dean Jagger) opposes Don while bolstering the
prospects for ineffectual Vice President of Sales, Josiah Walter Dudley (Paul Douglas)
because of his perceived malleability, particularly after Shaw unearths Dudley’s
torrid liaison with his secretary, Eva Bardeman (Shelley Winters). For the next few hours all of these hostile
rivals face off in a game of corporate chicken – each vying for control of the
Tredway Corporation. At the height of
this backroom backstabbing, Don confronts Julia about her decision to sell her
shares to Shaw – accusing her of destroying her father’s legacy to get back at a
dead lover; at one time, her father’s fair-haired boy. Julia suddenly realizes
Don is the right man for the job. She returns to the boardroom with a renewed
sense of purpose and casts her vote for Don as president. Dudley backs Julia’s
decision and prepares to take his lumps. Having swayed the rest of the board
members with his impassioned speech, Don is unanimously voted in as the new President
and Shaw tears up Caswell’s offer to buy back his stock. Realizing how
intensely Don has fought for the company, Mary rejoices in her husband’s
appointment as the two proudly start out for the elevators, presumably en route
to celebrate.
If ever a movie
about commerce and trade could be considered a morality play, Executive Suite is it; asking and
answering the toughest questions about the definition of fiscal responsibility
and what it actually means for the next generation of America’s workers. Executive Suite is by far the most
intelligent film to critique, as well as entertain the commercial mindset of
mid-century corporate America – mildly excoriating the shift in ‘assembly line’
attitudes that even in 1953 had already begun to mangle America’s manufacturing
sector. Ernest Lehman’s script is a masterpiece (as most Lehman screenplays
are), taking what could so easily have become very dry subject matter and
personalizing its global issues with ripe character studies. The salvation of
Tredway is as systemic as the underlings blind-sided belief in the traditions
that have made the company what it is. These seem puerile to Shaw and his cronies,
merely fascinated with fattening their pockets. But they endure as precepts,
today, long since forgotten, set aside, or perhaps, never entirely invested in at
the outset. Cleverly written, perfectly cast and expertly played, Executive Suite remains a must see -
absolutely.
Warner Home
Video’s DVD is very solid. But I would champion the Warner Archive to get
behind Executive Suite on Blu-ray. I
cannot imagine much work needs to be done to get the film ready for hi-def. The
gray scale exhibits exceptional tonality and a very clean transfer relatively
unobstructed by age-related dirt and debris. There is some minor edge
enhancement. Film grain infrequently looks gritty rather than natural.
Otherwise, few will be able to argue with the results. Ditto for the mono
audio, well represented for this primarily dialogue-driven showcase. Extras are
the singular disappointment. We get a fascinating audio commentary from Oliver
Stone, insightful and well-informed. For the rest, we are limited to vintage
short subjects and a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: very highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
1
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