In 1927 Al Jolson sang and spoke in The Jazz Singer and the sound era had officially arrived. Hollywood was in panic. How would the silent stars adapt to the new medium? Broadway actors moved west in droves. For a while the sound man was king. With the primitive sound equipment words dominated the action.
Hollywood in the 30s manufactured dreams on a conveyor belt, each studio turning out up to 50 films a year to a Depression-torn America. They manufactured the stars too: MGM could boast 'more stars than there are in heaven'. But the stars, all-powerful on screen, were in reality in thrall to the studios and the studio bosses: not for nothing was Beverly Hills known as 'the most beautiful slave quarters in the world....' Olivia de Havilland, Joan Fontaine, John Huston, Don Ameche, Virginia Mayo, Sylvia Sydney, Joseph L. Mankiewicz and Garson Kanin are among those who discuss the 'golden age' of Hollywood that culminated in Gone with the Wind (1939).
The early years of sound were one of the most liberated periods in Hollywood history. Harlow, Stanwyck and Mae West lost their virtue and liked it. But in 1933 a Production Code introduced the four-second kiss and twin beds. Censorship would remain in place for more than three decades, although attempts were made to break the ban with films like The Outlaw and The Pawnbroker. The swinging 60s saw censorship in retreat, and sex was treated more frankly than ever before. Nudity became de rigueur.
The myths and legends that had their roots in the conquest of America's wild and woolly west, during the last half of the 19th century, gave to Hollywood the basis for its most unique contribution to the cinema - the western. Tonight's Programme tries to discover why the genre was so popular with audiences the world over; why that popularity was sustained for so long; and why the making of the western today is a rare event.
With America's entry into the Second World War, Hollywood, eager to play its own part in the war effort, unleashed a tide of patriotism and propaganda, escapism and romance. Many in Hollywood itself were quick to volunteer - not just for active service but for War Bond tours, troop entertainments, and the Hollywood Canteen. Film-makers in uniform like John Ford and John Huston made battle documentaries now regarded as classics in their field.
From the earliest days of the talkies, Hollywood has been fascinated by the doings - and sayings - of the 'underworld'. From the Little Caesars of the 30s to the Godfathers of the modern era, crime movies have always been a staple of Hollywood production. Through their tales of gangsters and G-Men, cops and racketeers, they not only offer exciting action but a running commentary on aspects of American society itself.
At the end of the Second World War American cinema audiences were at an all-time high. The film studios appeared impregnable, but they were about to be the subject of a many-pronged attack. The film industry fought back with weapons ranging from Smellovision to 3-D, but they were not able to prevent, in words coined a generation earlier, the inmates from taking over the asylum.
The movie capital did not set out to make overtly political films. However, through the Depression years and the Second World War, writers and directors could not help but be affected by the turbulent situations of the day. By 1947 a right-wing America had detected 'communist infiltration' in Hollywood, and the House Un-American Activities Committee set up hearings to root out the principal suspects. The appalling effects of the witch-hunt still reverberate today.
When George Lucas made Star Wars, his inspiration came from the 'B' series and serials of three decades earlier. The 'B' movie was the bottom half of the double-bill; the 'bread and butter' that kept the studios going. When it was killed off by television in the 50s the 'B' was replaced by the cheaply made drive-in movie. A generation of film-makers - Francis Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Peter Bogdanovich - learned their craft working for Roger Corman, the king of the so-called 'exploitation' movie.
As Hollywood moved into the 1980s, there were signs that all was not well in the movie capital. Rising costs, rampant 'juvenilisation', and changes in studio ownership were causing a crisis of confidence in the film-making community. Could this be the end of the Hollywood Dream? In the last programme of the series, Barry Norman looks at the state of Hollywood's health today, and with the help of Steven Spielberg, Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood, he asks, can Hollywood survive?