I Honestly Know Me: An Evaluation Of An Evaluation

"You are very likely an Aspie."

This is a most unusual post. It does not deal with subject matter I normally talk about on this blog, or with anyone outside of my partner, my doctor, and my immediate family. This is my first post about my firm belief that I am an Aspergian (one with Asperger's Syndrome), and the devastating consequences that have resulted from my failing to realize this until well into my thirties. I can only imagine how many millions of people are struggling in their lives, in ways they can neither understand nor express, because they have no idea that they, too, are on the autistic spectrum. This first post is about the role that cultural stereotypes and my own constructed identity have played in making a diagnosis more difficult than I had expected. If not for the discovery of countless personal testimonials in books or online, I might still doubt myself about who I am and what it is that I am dealing with. Based on incredible feedback generated by past posts, I suspect many people out there are facing the same exact challenges that I am, and for the same exact reasons. And I hope that sharing my experiences may be beneficial to any of them who read this.

Part 1: August 29th, 2013

For the month leading up to the appointment, I was under the impression I would be undergoing a daylong series of neurological tests to determine if I, my family, and my referring physician were correct in the assumption that I have Asperger's Syndrome. I was so wrought with anxiety about what these tests would entail and how I would fare under them that I could not sleep for the two nights prior to what turned out to be a forty minute interview.

The appointment began at 8:30 AM. The neurologist came out to the waiting room to call me into an office where the evaluation began with a question along the lines of "so what brings you here today?". The neurologist was polite, but not especially friendly, with voice and body language suggesting to me that the neurologist felt I did not belong there and that this was a pointless exercise. Or, perhaps, that said neurologist was extremely tired. I told the neurologist about my family's encouragement in my being tested and my having many traits since childhood (as corroborated by relatives and many videotapes) up to the present. I told the neurologist that I have a family history of autism as well as bipolar disorder. I noted that while I had a cursory knowledge of Asperger's, I avoided researching too much so as not to impact my evaluation. I was asked a series of questions while the neurologist looked at a computer screen and typed.

I had begun the interview by stating that it was my sister who approached me about Asperger’s Syndrome after viewing Temple Grandin's TED Talk and being reminded the whole time of me. I indicated that growing up in a protective bubble with my parents and sister in a happy but insulated childhood allowed me to feel more comfortable expressing myself but meant that it took me much longer to pick up on how people in the world outside of my home would react to such expression. I even mentioned my “Vogue Boy” video because I felt that the performance people were seeing on video did not match who I really was off camera. What countless viewers interpreted as brave was in many ways blissful ignorance. (Something closer to my personality, if still meant for audience approval, was put on display in another video shot that same summer in a “1-2-3 Video” message booth.)

When asked about my early verbal communication, I referenced having been told over the years by my mother that I had uttered my first word at three months old when I greeted a housekeeper with a "Hi". The neurologist seemed skeptical. It may have been that this seemed out of character for a child with AS. But, that morning, I read the reaction as doubt that this event had even occurred. That at three months I had begun expertly mimicking sounds in response to specific stimuli seemed buried underneath overall suspicion, which fueled my subsequent insecurity about how my answers were being received.

I made it clear that I am a recluse living with my parents in my childhood home and that I had seen hardly any other people for the last year. I stressed that crippling social anxiety, not a lack of desire to be working, was the reason why I cannot get a job and turn my life around in spite of all the people who look at me and see nothing more than a typical “loser” stereotype. When asked about my sleeping schedule, I revealed with my trademark New England/Catholic guilt/shame that I am most inclined to go to sleep around 5 AM and wake up around 2 PM. This counters society's expectations of "normal", and I've spent two decades trying to conform, but it has been my natural tendency since puberty kicked into high gear at the age of thirteen. I didn't get a verbal response. But the neurologist's non-verbal response seemed to me, once again, critical and vaguely judgmental.

The most surprising interaction came about when the neurologist asked me if I dated or had girlfriends in high school. I told the neurologist that I’m gay, and that I knew this back then but was not out at the time. I told the neurologist that I did not cover this up by dating females, and emphasized that I was adamant about not leading girls on after a close female friend had had feelings for me which I could not reciprocate at a time when I could not be honest as to why. While typing, the neurologist stated, in regards to my being gay: “it was pretty obvious, but I have to ask”. At the time, I laughed, as I did not interpret it as hate speech. In hindsight, I feel this was part of an overall sense of dismissiveness that permeated the reactions to my answers.

Asked about my ability to read other people being angry or upset, I noted that my tendency was the extreme opposite: I always fear having just hurt people and I always think people are left upset. I begin to question every move I've made and everything I've said and in what way I could have hurt someone enough with what I've said or done to potentially destroy them. Someone telling me they love me one minute doesn't mean I won't be convinced I have not earned their hate the next minute, hence a perennial need for assurance. I don't know how much of this I conveyed in the office because what was on my mind and how it came out seems to have been somewhat disconnected. But I'd like to think I made it clear that my empathy, while abundant rather than lacking, is still extremely abnormal.

After giving my answers, I looked at my hands or looked at the wall or at the floor while the doctor looked at the screen and typed in silence. All of the neurologist's questions were met with honest answers. Most of these honest answers would indicate AS. But these were ultimately dismissed on the basis that: a.) I get along well with my immediate family, b.) I care intensely and obsessively about not hurting other people's feelings, and c.) "you seem amiable to me". According to the neurologist, my concern for the feelings of others indicated I did not have Asperger’s Syndrome, as “people with Asperger’s don’t really care if other people are happy”. The neurologist felt that my being close to my sister indicated I did not have Asperger’s Syndrome since the difficulty that people with AS have interacting with other people begins at home, and thus it would be unlikely someone with Asperger's would get along with family members.

The neurologist felt that simple therapy would treat what the neurologist perceived as severe social anxiety disorder, which had not only impacted my ability to pursue a job but also my ability to keep one for more than a matter of weeks or months. The neurologist felt that my experiences being a gay teenager at an all boys’ Catholic school in the 1990s could be largely responsible. The neurologist suggested that I was likely still dealing with unresolved anxiety from my semi-closeted high school years.

I reiterated something that I brought up early on in the evaluation, which is that I had been rapidly flapping my hands in states of intense thought or heightened excitement ever since childhood, when I did it openly, and that this is something I constantly still do in private as an adult. In the most alarming statement of the evaluation, the neurologist offered that this, too, was directly related to my homosexuality. “Most of my gay friends use their hands a lot” was the specific response. Once again, I laughed this off. 

The neurologist followed up this summation by noting that if I wanted to I could still make an appointment to undergo four hours of neurological testing to know for sure whether or not I had Asperger’s. At that point, I was anxiety-ridden, discouraged, and in doubt of my ability to understand anything about myself. I could not wait to get out of there, so I turned down the opportunity. I accepted the diagnosis despite my misgivings, I referenced my "Vogue Boy" video (no doubt a an unconscious suggestion to reconsider the diagnosis), and cheerily said goodbye with a big smile because I was so happy to be leaving. 

Part 2: March 29th, 2014

Over six months after my evaluation, I discovered that a number of challenges faced by my partner and I are commonplace in relationships in one which one (or both) partners have AS.  I proceeded to read books and testimonials from Aspergians writing in defense of their unique emotional make-up. Learning that perhaps intense over-empathy is being mistaken as a lack of empathy in a number of Aspies seemed to hit the nail on the head: this was EXACTLY what I was trying to communicate in the office that day about my skewed emotional make-up, but sadly to no avail. Maybe some Aspies, if not most, don't care if other people are happy. But many Aspergians assert that this oversimplification does not accurately describe all people with Asperger’s, and empathetic Aspies like activist/artist Alex Plank are clearly frustrated with not being heard--or, like myself and many Aspergian females, are not being diagnosed at all. 

My going in for the evaluation in the first place was based not only on my own feelings, but also based on the opinions of my parents, my sister, and my life partner. (Subsequent research has lead me to believe that my aforementioned loved ones are themselves undiagnosed Aspergians, hence the surprising closeness with my family.) One month before the evaluation, I had been referred to the neurologist by my physician, who “would not be surprised” if I was found to have Asperger’s Syndrome  based on knowing me through a handful of appointments over seven months. My physician also suspected that if I had AS, it would likely be a “mild” case. Subsequently, my fear about being evaluated was that my desire to please and my aptitude for unconsciously performing would suggest an outgoing personality and belie the fact that said “personality” is, in fact, a lifelong front. Sadly, my fear was realized. 

For seven months now, that morning of August 29th, 2013 has been a frequent source of pain and regret. I spent the preceding weeks anticipating a definitive neurological confirmation that would allow me to approach my life in a positive new way. I was given a diagnosis based on an interview, leading me to believe that I had apparently misunderstood myself for my entire life. I wore a Michael Jackson t-shirt into the office that day, because it was his birthday, or “Michael Jackson Day”, as I call it. Michael has been a guiding influence on me since my birth, and only more so since his death, and going in I assumed he was on the autistic spectrum, too. When I was told Aspies don't care about the happiness of others, I realized he couldn’t be one either. He, too, was obsessed with other peoples' happiness, and like myself, his isolated and intensely creative life was fueled by this aim to please, from his early success as an ultra-precocious child through his troubled adulthood.

I emphasized where I was at in my life, and not without a great deal of shame. I was thirty one, living with my parents, and had become a recluse. I was too anxious to drive a car or see people, and thus incapable of interviewing for a job or shopping around for a suitable therapist. I was spending my days writing by myself and my nights watching movies by myself. It is an endless cycle of solitude that is usually only broken by extended video chats with my partner, whom I feel is a fellow "Aspie" and who is also presently living with his family in a nearly identical situation. I have since learned that my present life, as described to the neurologist, is sadly not an unfamiliar manifestation of undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. I am, like so many other undiagnosed adults, suffering the inevitable state of disconnection and uncertainty that comes with not knowing "what's wrong with me" in relation to the rest of the human race. If I had realized just how NOT alone I was, and just how RIGHT I was to be there that day, I would never have turned down the opportunity to undergo the very testing I thought I was showing up for in the first place. I went in for an evaluation based on traits that I saw in myself for years prior to the low point that my life had sunk to. I had no idea that day that said low point is further indication that I am not only correct in my assumption, but would have benefited immeasurably from having been diagnosed years earlier. And I would give anything to have known all of this last August. 

Prior to the evaluation, I was shocked and relieved to learn that rapidly flapping my hands while in a state of excitement brought about by intense inwardness--something which consistently attracted amusement throughout childhood before becoming a hidden, embarrassing trait ever since--is a defining trait of individuals on the autistic spectrum. But I did not know the word for this, “stimming”, until after my evaluation. I suspect that my use of grandiose hand gestures while explaining myself, rather than the stimming that I was attempting to explain, is what the neurologist reacted to. Several days later, my sister sent me a YouTube video of a young boy with Asperger’s whose mother asked him to demonstrate and explain his stimming. His behavior, his demeanor, and his description of his internal experience while stimming illustrated everything I had been attempting to communicate in the office and apparently could not. I saw myself in this child, as did my sister. Subsequently, the mortified reaction of everyone with whom I shared the doctor's "most of my gay friends use their hands a lot" statement preempted my own shock in being given such a stereotype-based response to such an incredibly common behavior of individuals on the autistic spectrum.

I would like to stress that I do not believe that the neurologist I spoke with was motivated by any homophobic inclination. With that said, I feel that my being gay was way too prominent an issue in this evaluation. Addressing my sexuality as “pretty obvious” early on and later writing off my stimming as behavior not unlike “most of my gay friends” was troubling, to me and to many of my loved ones. I have always struggled with social relationships, in predominantly gay as well as predominantly straight environments. Thus I do not agree with the theory that my problems today are directly rooted in my Catholic high school years, particularly not after fifteen subsequent years of being relentlessly open about my sexuality and in a decade-long relationship with another man. Two of my oldest friends, neither of whom I see very often but both of whom have been in my life since our youth, both separately joked that I had gone in for Asperger’s testing and been diagnosed as gay.

Based on the neurologist’s facial expressions and body language, I interpreted skepticism, condescension, and general irritation. I took the neurologist's "so what brings you here today?" as an implication that this was an audition as much as an evaluation. I proceeded accordingly, answering the questions and reading the signs sent by someone who struck me as going down a checklist rather than exhibiting concern for what I was saying and where it was coming from. Throughout the evaluation, I felt that the neurologist was looking at me as though I was looking at Asperger's as a scapegoat for my neurosis. I may very well have been correct in this assumption. Or I may very well have entirely misread the non-verbal cues before me. If indeed I completely misread the neurologist, then I feel all the more convinced that I have Asperger's. But regardless of the accuracy of my interpretation, by the time the forty minutes was up, I felt browbeaten and stripped of any sense of self beyond being gay and seemingly “amiable”. I also felt like such a neurotic stereotype that I turned down the tests I had wanted to have done so as to avoid further embarrassing myself in the eyes of the neurologist. 

I know that I have Asperger’s Syndrome. This is based not only on the overwhelming extent to which I can personally identify with the experiences of diagnosed individuals, but also based on the observations and memories of people close to me whom I have knowingly or unknowingly revealed my true self to in the years between my being an ahead-of-his-years child and a what-went-wrong-with-him adult. I also know that my evaluation had a catastrophic effect on my self-esteem. I feel that a big part of my reaction in this regard was based on the fact that the evaluation seemed bound to end in dismissal from the get-go. That such focus would be placed on my sexuality suggests that perhaps my feigned demeanor had a bigger influence on my diagnosis than did my honest answers to the questions I was asked. Since that day, I have struggled to feel like myself again. But thanks to incredible blogs like SeventhVoice, communities like Alex Plank's WrongPlanet, and activists/authors like Temple Grandin, Maxine Aston, and John Elder Robison, the voices of people whose life experiences I most relate to are leading me out of the dark.

Up to now, this blog has primarily been a platform for me to worship my favorite stars, rave about my favorite movies, celebrate my favorite pop culture anniversaries, and generally indulge in my perceived narcissism--all indicators of Asperger's, I might add! Thus, you may rightfully be asking why I would suddenly feel the need to discuss extremely personal details about my mental health. And that brings me to the questions I’ve been asking myself in the days leading up to writing this post. Is it not possible that cultural stereotypes of gay men as high-strung and idol-obsessed has permeated science and medicine, and to such an extent that autism is being confused with homosexuality? Is it not possible that in the seven months since I accepted my diagnosis that numerous other LGBTQ people have accepted similar diagnoses, putting aside their self-understanding in favor of an expert opinion? And, more importantly, is it possible that doing so has lead to the same depression, anxiety, and overwhelming self-doubt that has swallowed up the last seven months of my own life? 

I have only myself to blame for letting anxiety and self-doubt hold me back from giving a “Yes” answer when offered the testing I so wanted. And so I blamed only myself for the last seven months. Now, I anxiously await the opportunity to finally undergo neurocognitive testing in July. I could not be more excited about Summer 2014, and I pray it provides the assurance and optimism I sought out in Summer 2013. In the meantime, I will fight to believe in MY understanding of myself, even if it means fighting against the real or perceived skepticism of others. I stand alongside everyone waging a war against such doubt, and will keep my comrades up to date through future posts.

Confessions '13: It Came From Religion Class

Wow, the stars truly aligned.

I was planning to finally end the five month hiatus from my blog by once again posting for "Confessions Day", the anniversary of the U.S. release of Madonna’s Confessions On A Dancefloor. Then I figured I’d give that a rest since, well, I’ve already confessed enough. Besides, I’m working on a little something for another upcoming Madonna anniversary that I thought would make a more impactful comeback post.

Alas, The Universe had something else in mind: an entry that feels like déjà vu.

Once again, I discovered a piece of thought-lost writing from my Catholic high school years: in this case, a short assignment written in a notebook for religion class. And, wouldn’t you know, it was written just a few desks away from “James”, the straight classmate whose lone year at my alma mater came to define my adolescence. So I thought I’d precede the formal relaunch of my blog by posting my irrepressibly honest fifteen year old self’s every handwritten word. Try to keep in mind, this was written by a 9th grader in love. But, also, that nearly all of it of it still applies to me today.

That, for better or for worse, is my Confession ‘13.

Bob Jeffrey

1/22/97

1.        Learning
2.        Family/personality
3.        Where You Are In Faith Experience
4.        How Is Freshman Year Going For You?

1

1.   I’m not really a smart person. I get distracted a lot while doing my homework, and I usually take a long time because of this. I often “drift off” in class, and will sometimes start falling asleep while taking notes or listening to a lecture.
2. I am kind of a bizarre person. I always try to reach out and help people, but I keep a lot of things “bottled up”, so it can result in a short-temper. I think I might be manic-depressive. I had a horrible experience in junior high, and I believe this brought about manic-depression. I am very sensitive and I am always worried about what other people think of me. I often make myself think that they think bad things about me, and I make myself believe I am a horrible person. I try to be as outgoing as possible, but in reality I am very shy and self-conscious. I am very close to my family.
3. I used to go to church just about every week, but I haven’t gone in a long time. Still, I believe in God and Jesus Christ and I pray all the time about various things. Though I attend CCD, I find that I miss it often. Still, I consider myself a very religious person. 
4. So far, freshman year is a blast! I hated junior high, and so far high school is fantastic. After my Jr. High experience, I became really shy and a loner, but I am gradually getting back to the way I used to be. I want so bad to be popular, though. I think that right now I am average. I’m not popular, but not unpopular. I have a lot of people who I consider my friends, and no one here is mean to me, that I can recall. Fortunately here there isn’t as much of a rat race. People all seem to be on the same level, like everybody here is friends with everyone else. Hope that won’t change now that I said it.

Suffice to say, the high I was on when I wrote this certainly did not last for the rest of high school, and I would never again take such an unnecessarily revealing approach to in-class assignments. Or, if I did, I blocked it out of my memory. So allow me to close by dedicating this performance of one of my favorite "Confessions" tracks to the inner fifteen year old in us all.

Happy 40th Anniversary To Our Favorite Couple!!

In addition to being the birthday of my second favorite movie star, Joan Crawford, March 23rd is also the wedding anniversary of two of my favorite people: my Mom and Dad. There would never have been  a "Vogue Boy" video without Madonna, but I would never have been a Vogue Boy without my parents. They protected me from the very concept of intolerance throughout my childhood, and they were offscreen cheering me on while I danced. It is certainly not the only reason I am forever grateful to them. But I think this aspect of that happy moment in my childhood speaks to why I regard them as being my friends as well as my parents.

My parents are remarkably unpretentious people who instilled in me a habit (if not a superstition) of maintaining a veil of modesty between "public" and "personal". As such, I weighed whether or not to post a collection of favorite photos as I had previously done for my mother’s birthday and the anniversary of my cat Toby walking into my life. But I decided I would share a handful of treasured images, and for two reasons. First and foremost, my sister Jennifer gave us all a gift when she scanned hundreds of family photos back in 2008 for their digital preservation. This presentation is a gift we give to our parents together, for it would never have been possible had she not spent weeks finding and saving a lifetime's worth of priceless treasures. Second, my parents have been through a great deal of hardship in recent years. Like so many people around the world right now, financial struggles have tested their other relationships. When you lose a great deal of money, you find that many friends and family members suddenly stop caring. (We do, after all, live in a “what’s in it for me?” society.) You also gain a new appreciation for those loved ones who reveal that their love and compassion is in no way connected to money or materialism, a revelation that makes you love those loved ones more than you ever thought possible. It is through these eyes of love that I present these photographs, scanned by my sister and taken by many such loved ones over the course of my parents’ forty year marriage. As much as anything else, my parents have taught me that friendship is at the root of all great relationships, and most especially lifelong romance. My sister and I are more blessed than words can ever describe to be the children of our father and mother. And nothing makes us happier than knowing that, “in good times and in bad”, they always have had and always will have one another.

Possibly the most romantic ending in film history.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD, 

WITH LOVE FROM BOTH OF US ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!! XOXOXOXOXO

        ROB & JEN 

"As long as life endures, it's yours....this heart of mine." 

Happy 75th Anniversary, "Jezebel"!

We all know the couple: the hot-headed lover who keeps testing the patience of an even-keeled partner who forever winks and smiles and puts-up-with. We've all been witness to it, and many of us have been or will be a part of that cycle--perhaps playing both parts in different relationships. And for those of us more apt to personally identify with the former personality than the latter, there is no greater fear than that of a partner who one day throws up their hands and says "I've had enough!"....and means it. Under the direction of the peerless Hollywood master William Wyler, Bette Davis and Henry Fonda play out such a scenario against the backdrop of Louisiana in 1852. The film was Jezebel, an Oscar-winning box office smash that opened at Radio City Music Hall on March 10th, 1938, launching Bette's reign as Queen of Hollywood.

Bette Davis on the role William Wyler's Jezebel played in shaping her future.

Jezebel is rightfully touted as an epic Southern melodrama, but its impact is derived from how easily its characters and relationships could be transplanted to any other time or place. This, among many other reasons, is why I consider it vastly superior to the classic film which it has always lived in the shadow of: Gone With The Wind. Last year, I wrote a 75th Anniversary tribute to Marked Woman, the unsung classic that began the greatest chapter of Bette Davis's career. William Wyler's Jezebel, released eleven months later, was the film that Miss Davis always credited with "making me a box office star", so I felt I should write another tribute. Alas, time kept that from happening. Instead, here's a recently discovered paper I wrote in high school for a favorite teacher, Mr. Raymond Carrey. Mr. Carrey was already a passionate feminist, but I hoped to expand his canon of great feminist texts by encouraging him to look at the films of Bette Davis in a new way. I'm happy to say he liked my work.

Robert Jeffrey 5/18/99

The Rise and Fall of Hollywood’s Studio System

            When I set out to research Hollywood’s studio system from its beginning to its ultimate demise, I had no idea that such a task would involve researching every single studio’s individual history. In spite of the fact that Hollywood’s studio system had always been a practice and an institution which I have found to be complex and fascinating, I had always been under the false impression that it was some kind of a sprawling Empire. I knew that there was a great deal of individual studios promoting their own stars and filmmakers, but what I did not know was that each individual studio began their own, private Hollywood journeys at different times and for different reasons. Therefore, I have decided that it would be best to pursue the rise and fall of The Warner Brothers Studio. In addition to the studio’s interesting timeline, Warner Bros. was well known at the time for making films that were about cultural significance as opposed to scope and glamour. “Warner’s….was more closely associated with realism and some excellent social-problem films,” said actress Agnes Moorehead at one time. “MGM was bigger, but today the critics esteem Warner’s highly.” (Hadleigh, 155)

            The Warner Bros. Studio came into the Hollywood power game relatively late. When the studio began to form, in the early 1920s, MGM and Paramount dominated the industry. (Schatz, 58) The studio that would be Warner Bros. was the  brain child of four brothers from the East Coast: Sam, Abe, Harry, and Jack. The brothers started out by distributing films during the period of 1910-1919, aided by the powerful Wall Street broker, Goldman Sachs. Sachs saw the potential for the film industry to become a major force in American economics, and was sure that he could propel the Warner Brothers ahead in this boom. (Schatz, 59)

            In 1920, the brothers emigrated to the West Coast, where they leased a facility for producing films. There, they produced several feature films. In 1922, the brothers moved on and bought a 10 acre plot of land, where they developed The Warner Bros. West Coast Studio. In 1923, the evolution of a studio was in full swing. The name of the studio/production company became “Warner Bros.”, and the brothers received a donation of half a million dollars from an LA banker by the name of Motley Flint. The money was split between upgrading the studio development, buying rights to several stage plays, and producing the first ever “Rin Tin Tin” movie, Where The North Begins. (Schatz, 59-60)

            The studio continued to grow and enjoy smashing success throughout the 1920s. By 1925, the studio had released more than 25 films, and signed several solid stars to contract. The studio upped its budget/production schedule to thirty pictures per year, and the studio expanded its distribution by buying more second-run movie houses (theaters in small, suburban areas with less splendor than first-run film houses) and by building several huge, extravagant first-run movie houses. (Schatz, 60-61)

            It was in 1927 that Warner Bros. forever changed the medium of filmmaking. In February of that year, several studios had announced that they would not be incorporating sound into their films for at least another year. The studios apparently felt that this was too risky a venture, and that the orchestration that accompanied films in first-run movie houses was appropriate enough. (Schatz 64) Warner Bros., in an attempt to compete with more well-established studios like Paramount, MGM, and Universal, opted to take a risk and woo a larger audience with the attraction that sound offered. The risk paid off. (Schatz 64)

            The studio’s first feature to offer sound was The Jazz Singer, a film that offered little plot but still a great deal of music and minimal spoken dialogue. The Jazz Singer was a box office phenomenon, earning a then-spectacular $3 million and prompting Warner bros. to churn out more “talkies”, as sound-capable films were called, so as to beat the other studios to the punch. Once again, their plans paid off, as the studio continued to soar as a result of this technical advantage over Warner Bros.’ competitors. (Schatz 64)

            The 1930s is considered by some to be the finest decade in American cinema. It was also one of the most influential. The ‘30s marked the beginning of Technicolor, the introduction of some of American cinema’s brightest stars, and the first time in American history when a nation of audiences could escape to a fantastical world of fiction and fantasy during the harsh reality of their lives. (Schatz 199) Coinciding with the public’s definitive embrace of American cinema was the beginning of the stars’ resistance towards the oppressive studio system. (Schatz 200) While numerous stars would take part in the rebellion against the oppressive studios, perhaps the earliest and most public rebel was screen legend Bette Davis.

            Warner Bros., not unlike every other studio, was willing to go far to publicize a new movie. In the case of the 1939 film Juarez, the studio reportedly paid a man to jump into a cab, tell the driver to “Take me to Juarez!”’, and then travel all the way to Juarez, Mexico. The next day, headlines appeared in newspapers proclaiming that “Fan Drives 2500 Miles to See Juarez!”. Such an extravagant and original publicity stunt was not especially uncommon during the era when studios controlled filmmaking. (Hadleigh, 198) However, controlling all aspects of filmmaking also meant controlling actors, and such a dominating presence was eventually resisted by actors hungry for artistic freedom.

            “Well, the so-called Golden Age of Hollywood was not necessarily that golden…it was damn trying at times,” said Bette Davis of her days as a young actress. “We were properties of Warner Bros. We were contractually bound. We were indentured. Of course, I fought to help end the feudal system…[Myself and other actors] fought to improve it, but the studio system was a form of slavery, undeniably.” (Hadleigh, 57) Davis’s sentiment reflected the view of many performers in Hollywood. Actor Tyrone Power once even compared Hollywood to “a gilded cage”. (Hadleigh 57) Unlike today’s studio system, in which actors are cast in individual pictures or perhaps commit to several films as part of a contract, in the 1930s the majority of actors worked for one studio all the time. The studio would “own” them for a certain period of time, provide them with steady work and a steady pay, and require them to comply with certain studio demands or risk suspension or revocation of contract. (Davis 30) In addition, female performers faced harsh punishments if they did not comply with certain “sexual obligations” that the studio had placed upon them. Furthermore, reporting such harassment could result in a woman’s career coming to an abrupt end, as Bette Davis would later describe in an interview:

I’m so thankful I never had to rely on my looks. I survived on talent and temperament. If I’d had to make it on the casting touch, I’d have screamed “Rape!” and that would have ended my career! Oh, it was terribly unfair—much more unfair on the actresses.

                                                                                         (Hadleigh 58)

           Although Davis did not detail the corruption of the studio system until later in her life in various interviews and publications, she ended up making positive improvements in the system—without even intending to. Her persistence and perseverance in the demand for challenging roles would go on to make her a star, and to eventually open more doors for actors and actresses to come. (Staiger 205)

By the time 1934 rolled around, Bette Davis had completed 21 films, most of them supporting roles with little depth. Tired of being written off as a supporting player in paper-thin roles, Davis fought hard for Warner Bros. to “loan her out” to RKO Pictures to make a film entitled Of Human Bondage. Although studios did, on occasion, loan a contract player to another studio for an individual film, this particular move seemed especially unusual because she was fighting hard for a non-glamorous role that had been turned down by virtually every actress in Hollywood. Whether it was out of having been convinced or simply tired of Davis’s persistence, Jack Warner, who at the time made the majority of decisions regarding the artistic side of filmmaking, allowed her to go. “Go ahead, hang yourself!”, he reportedly told Davis, referring to the fact that the role could very well end her potential career. (Wiley & Bona 53)

         To say the least, Jack Warner was wrong. Though Of Human Bondage was only modestly successful at the box office, critics and audiences hailed Davis’s performance as a revelation, with Life magazine going so far as to call it “probably the best performance ever recorded on the screen by a U.S. actress”. (Wiley & Bona 53) Davis’s rebellious tendencies would also yield two other smashing success stories during the 1930s. In 1936, still dissatisfied with her roles, Davis was suspended by Warner Bros. for refusing to work until demands were met for a new contract. During her suspension, Davis traveled to England to discuss a possible film contract with an independent production company. Warner Bros. successfully sued Davis to prevent her from signing. Bette was unfazed by the lawsuit, and immediately after returned to work at Warner Bros., no longer pleading for modifications in her contract. In retrospect, it is widely believed that the lawsuit was just what Davis wanted, for when she returned the studio began to offer her far better material, starting with a role in the film Jezebel. David was ecstatic about the role in Jezebel, which would offer her far more depth than many of her previous screen endeavors. The enthusiasm apparently translated to the screen as well. Jezebel, which predated the similarly themed Gone With The Wind, was an acclaimed box office blockbuster. The Southern epic earned Davis a Best Actress Academy Award and solidified her as one of the nation’s top box office stars. (Staiger, 79-80)

1938's Best Actor & Best Actress: Spencer Tracy for Captains Courageous 

and Bette Davis for Jezebel

    In 1939, Bette Davis fought for a role in the film Dark Victory, the tragic and inspiring tale of a wealthy young socialite who is stricken with a brain tumor. The film was initially seen as being too dark and depressing, with Jack Warner proclaiming that “no one wants to see a story about a girl who dies”. However, the film was released, became a box office success, and earned Davis her third Academy Award nomination. (Hadleigh 95-96) Although it marked a tremendous personal achievement for Davis, it marked perhaps an even greater achievement for all women. Although pictures with strong female leads been successful in Hollywood throughout the 1930s, Dark Victory ushered in a period in Hollywood during the early 1940s when women did more than just make up a large portion of the box office: they controlled it. Dark Victory was written for and about a complex female lead, and explored numerous emotions that were not always typical of the glamorous leading ladies of archetypal Hollywood films. In the years to come, Miss Davis would lead the pack of numerous actresses who spoke directly to the emotions and plights of all women, at times delving into emotional territory that has not since been seen on the screen. (Hadleigh 111)

The 1940s offered a chance for Hollywood to become even more embedded in American society than ever before. World War II was going on at the time, and many actors, like most Americans, were feeling a great sense of nationalism. It was during this period that stars began to entertain troops in barracks, serving food and socializing at the Bette Davis-run Hollywood Canteen. It was also when celebrities began to promote the sale of war bonds, either through contractual obligation to a studio or, perhaps more commonly, through their own will to be patriotic. (Schatz 302)

Bette serving troops at The Hollywood Canteen

         It was also during this period, in 1940 in particular, that Hollywood began to incorporate non-white actors in significant roles in mainstream film. No example is more well-known or significant than the casting of African American actress Hattie McDaniel in the phenomenally successful Gone With The Wind. Segregation was still very firmly a part of society during the film’s release in 1939, so much in fact that McDaniel was excluded from the film’s Atlanta premiere. However, in 1940, she became the first African American to be nominated for an Academy Award. On February 29^th, 1940, Hattie McDaniel became the first-ever African American to win an Academy Award. Presenter Fay Bainter, before announcing the award’s recipient, told the audience that the night was “a tribute to a country where people are free to honor noteworthy achievements regardless of creed, race, or color.” At the announcement of McDaniel’s name, she received the biggest cheer of the whole night, and called this “the happiest moment of my life”. (Wiley & Bona, 98-100)

         In spite of McDaniel’s achievement as both an actress and an African American, and Hollywood’s enthusiasm for her merit, Hollywood has since been accused of putting McDaniel in a stereotypical role that mocked her ethnicity as opposed to celebrating it. In addition, Hollywood took a great deal of heat for casting black actors and actresses only in roles that offered entertaining stereotypes to the studios’ target white audiences. Such an accusation is most certainly justified, but the situation of black actors in films during the 1940s actually exposes the dramatic differences between the mindsets of Hollywood filmmakers and actors and the studio heads. Hollywood was known for being a “safe” place for homosexuals, for most actors were far more accepting of this lifestyle than the majority of Americans. In addition, the majority of Hollywood personalities were open to equality and civil rights, even at a time when segregation existed and racism ran rampant in every city and town in America. Many of the studio heads were, on a personal level, sympathetic towards black actors, but felt the need to play to an audience that did not necessarily have as open a heart as the people who made up Hollywood. (Schatz 315) Such an example involved The Hollywood Canteen. Bette Davis, who was President of this establishment that provided entertainment and recreation for troops, refused to permit segregation of any kind. To anyone that dared defy her, she reminded them that “the blacks got the same bullets the whites did and therefore should have the same treatment.” (Davis 128) However, the studios feared the possibility of white troops being photographed with black hostesses, for if word got to the South, potential donors to the Canteen might back out. (Davis 128)

       Such a profit-over-humanity mentality hindered the beliefs of a slightly more progressive group of people, and thus many talented black performers were force to reduce themselves to stereotypes for the sake of “not coming on too strong” for the white audiences. Even though the casting of black actors in somewhat offensive roles was not the way to go about promoting equality, the awarding of an Oscar to Hattie McDaniel was perhaps indication of a desire for equality and acceptance, even if it was only within the confines of Hollywood. (Staiger 168)

         The 1950s offered far more progressiveness, but also a sense of independence that would ultimately lead to the fall of the Studio System. The extremely popular 1957 film Sayonara, which starred Marlon Brando and dealt with the then-controversial subject of interracial romance, earned supporting actress Miyoshi Umeki an Academy Award, making her the first Asian actress to earn the Oscar. (Sackett 131) Marilyn Monroe broke new grounds for actresses when she became the first woman ever to start her own production company. (Staiger 192) In addition, actors and filmmakers were becoming more independent, with only a handful of the decade’s top stars contractually attached to a studio. More and more actors and directors were free to work with whichever studio they chose, and this independence allowed for greater freedom both artistically and personally. (Schatz 417) Additionally, new, younger audiences were being targeted during this period with such teen-oriented films as the classic drama Rebel Without A Cause and popcorn hits like Beach Blanket Bingo. The studios were certainly not losing any money, and they still did exhibit power. (Staiger 299) However, this time the power was directed in the area of promotion as opposed to near-slavery. Studios spent a great deal of money producing documentaries to promote their films, and also sought out specific demographics to target at the box office. (Staiger 304)

My favorite scene from Rebel Without A Cause

    By the time the 1950s were over, so was Hollywood’s Studio System. Film historian Thomas Schatz made an interesting statement when he claimed that perhaps Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 film Psycho was the ultimate symbol of the end of The Studio’s reign. He points out that Psycho was a low-budget film with a television crew and a tight shooting schedule, and that the film’s then-graphic violence and sexuality was a far cry from the films of the 1930s and 1940s when studios heavily censored their material. (Schatz 489-490)

         As ironic as it may sound, Bette Davis actually applauded many elements of the studio system in the later years of her life. Davis noted that while she was frustrated with the lack of work she was being offered in her first two years as a contract player at Warner Bros., those two years gave her a great deal of preparation and training for the later roles that would define her career. (Davis 113) She also noted the more positive means of promoting a film during the reign of the Studio System, making specific reference to Warner’s aforementioned promotion for the film Juarez. “It was wonderful, good fun, and lots of imagination. No need for vulgarity or sensationalism then.” (Hadleigh 198)

        In the four decades since the gradual demise of the Studio System, there has been a great deal of criticism and admiration for an establishment that created what are considered to be the finest American films of all time and perhaps the most globally successful stars of all time. To some, the studio system was an oppressive institution that treated actors as products to be sold and stifled artistic experimentation. In addition, some feel that the System promoted prejudice in America, and invaded the lives of the stars and filmmakers who worked for studios and had to fear that their personal endeavors could jeopardize a contract. To others, the studio system was a shrewd but brilliant part of America’s history which strove for artistic integrity, signed actors based on talent as opposed to box office success in previous films, provided all Hollywood players with steady employment, and which defined careers through the process of hiring writers to write roles for actors as opposed to simply casting any actor for any role.

       Performance artist Madonna once stated, in response to a great deal of anti-1980s sentiment during the past few years, that “As we move further away from the ‘80s, I think that we will grow to analyze and appreciate them.” Such is the case for the Studio System. Over the past few decades, the System has been slammed and celebrated by a wide array of people, but if nothing else, perhaps this criticism will lead people to appreciate the huge effect, whether it be negative or positive, that The System has had on American culture outside of film. During the 1930s, cinema played a vital role in helping audiences to escape from the reality of The Great Depression. In the 1940s, Hollywood was as actively involved with World War II as Washington, D.C. The System has also had effects on race relations, racial stereotypes, the changing roles of women, and the debate over artistic integrity versus profit. The Studio System built a Hollywood that has affected every generation through images and messages, but never to quite the degree that it did in the 1930s and 1940s. Oppressive or artistic, the studios have played a vital role in shaping America’s cultural landscape, and have left an impression that will affect many, many more generations to come. 

Works Cited

The Hollywood Reporter Book of Box Office Hits by Susan Sackett (1996)

The Studio System by Janet Staiger (1995)

Bette Davis Speaks by Boze Hadleigh

The Genius of the System: Hollywood Filmmaking in the Studio Era by Thomas Schatz

Inside Oscar: The Unofficial History of the Academy Awards by Mason Wiley and Damien Bona (1996)

This 'N That by Bette Davis (1987)

Addendum

Looking back, I can finally see the impact that my first year of college had on improving my work as a writer....such as teaching me how to properly cite my sources. Hopefully the provided links will compensate for the citation information I left out fourteen years ago! (Although I failed to note in my paper that that Madonna quote came from an interview with Q magazine in Spring '98.) I also made a few mistakes that I would like to apologize for. I am a lot more familiar with Hollywood's studio system (specifically Warner Bros.) than I was in 1999, and must acknowledge that a lot of the material I presented exhibited a decided lack of understanding. As a result, I also did not properly convey the details of the trial that ensued when Bette Davis took Warner Bros. to court in England. Worse yet, I erroneously stated that Jezebel was the first film that Bette made after said trial (it was Marked Woman) and my paper unintentionally suggested that her only notable '30s films after Of Human Bondage were the Oscar nominees Jezebel and Dark Victory. Perhaps this was because they were the only films she made in the '30s that were available on U.S. DVD back in early 1999, but it leaves me a bit red in 2013 all the same. 

I should also point out that (gulp) I wrote this paper before I actually saw Jezebel. I have loved Bette Davis since my childhood, when a combination of The Watcher In The Woods and her legendary appearances on the '80s talk show circuit made me an avowed fan. I vividly recall her death in 1989, but it was not until seeing a segment of the documentary The Warner Bros Story in 1996 that I became enchanted by her films and spent the second half of the '90s slowly absorbing them into my heart and soul. I first saw Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? in 1997. I first saw All About Eve in 1998. I first saw Of Human Bondage, Now Voyager, and Dark Victory in 1999, and in 2000 I finally saw Bette's first two films with William Wyler: Jezebel and The Letter. Since then I've seen more films and telefilms and TV & radio show performances than I can even keep track of. But those early years laid the foundation, and this paper was written right in the middle of the important period in my life when I developed as a screenwriter and cinephile thanks to the inspiration and legacy of the immortal Miss Bette Davis.