box office – The Magnificent 60s

Behind the Scenes: The Box Office Bump Part Two – Foreign Saves the Day

In previous decades, box office outside of the U.S., while a growing part of the ancillary equation, only in very rare circumstances outscored domestic. The general expectation, in part due to tougher competition for screens and extra distribution costs, was on average studios could expect to earn about half of domestic revenues.

There was one obvious exemption to this rule. James Bond overseas blew all the competition out of the water. And so it proved in the early 1970s from an examination of United Artists books for the period. Live and Let Die (1973) was the standout performer, knocking up $27 million in rentals (the studio share of the overall box office gross) from foreign cinemas compared to $16.4 million at home. Diamonds Are Forever (1971) did equally well – $22 million abroad, $20 million domestic.

James Bond was such a cash cow that surprised no one. Last Tango in Paris (1973) was considered an anomaly, controversy stoked by UA four-walling the picture when it couldn’t find enough screens. It came in third in the foreign market league, adding $16 million to domestic $21 million.

What did take Hollywood’s breath away was how often under-performers – flops even – at the U.S. ticket wickets did gangbusters elsewhere. The biggest winner was the aptly-named Michael Winner, director of westerns Lawman (1971) and Chato’s Land (1972), hitman thriller The Mechanic (1972) and spy drama Scorpio (1973). Total American rentals a shade over $7 million, total foreign rentals three times as much a colossal $21.8 million.

There was hardly a greater example of the disparity between American audience tastes and the rest of the world. And it made Hollywood studios more adventurous when it came to choosing subject matter, and in backing stars, aware that they could make their investment back – and more – from foreign markets.

It was probably astonishing to any studio executive that Burt Lancaster – for over two decades a high-flying marquee name from action-oriented fare like The Crimson Pirate (1952) and controversial drama From Here to Eternity (1953) to his Oscar-winning turn as Elmer Gantry (1960) and hardnosed western The Professionals (1966) – had lost his domestic audience especially after he had fronted up disaster movie smash Airport (1970).

But Lancaster could only scrape up $1.35 million at home for Scorpio, $2.1 million for Lawman and $2.8 million for another western Valdez Is Coming. Scorpio was the biggest hit abroad, with a massive $7 million, over five times domestic, while Lawman shot up $3.2 million (50 per cent above domestic) and Valdez Is Coming $2.65 million.

Charles Bronson was another beneficiary of foreign largesse. The Mechanic, too, targeted $7 million abroad, nearly three times the domestic tally of $2.6 million. Chato’s Land (1972) only delivered $1.27 million in the U.S. but $4.6 million abroad.

Westerns were a mixed bag. Oliver Reed-Candice Bergen-Gene Hackman number The Hunting Party (1971) was an almighty flop at home, just $800,000 in the kitty, but rallied somewhat abroad, not enough to turn profit but at least add a sheen of respectability, with $2.4 million elsewhere, three times domestic. The Magnificent Seven Ride! (1972), proof the sequels had outstayed their welcome, brought in just $750,000 domestically but again did triple the business abroad with $2.15 million and given the paltry budget enough to sit in the black.

Revisionist effort Billy Two Hats (1974) starring Gregory Peck added $900,000 abroad to a miserable $440,000 at home – foreign revenues not enough to save it from flop. But foreign couldn’t save the second remake of the Gunfight at the OK Corral legend, Doc (1971) with Stacy Keach and Faye Dunaway which moseyed along to $1.35 million abroad to add to $1.8 million domestic. And another western sequel Support Your Local Gunfighter (1971) notched up just $970,000 abroad compared to $2.1 million. Modern western The Honkers (1972) with James Coburn managed just $550,000 abroad and $1 million at home.

It didn’t really matter that Michael Caine comedy thriller Pulp (1972) did better abroad, figures everywhere nothing to write home about, $600,000 in total, five-sixths of that abroad. Fiddler on the Roof (1970), for other reasons, underwhelmed but nobody was going to complain too much when foreign audiences stuck $10 million in till, about a quarter of domestic.

There were some conundrums in the foreign-domestic share-out. Typically, American comedies didn’t travel. But Billy Wilder’s Avanti! (1972) starring Jack Lemmon, perhaps because of the Italian setting, did better abroad – $2.5 million to $1.6 million. Glenda Jackson British-made menage a trois Sunday, Bloody Sunday (1970) not surprisingly did better abroad, but only just, $1.8 million to $1.77 million.

Sidney Poitier in second sequel The Organization (1971) tapped into $2.9 million abroad and $2.45 million at home but generally too-specifically-American features struggled overseas, The Hospital (1971) snaring only $1.9 million compared to $9 million, White Lightning (1973) snagging $1.8 million compared to $6.9 million, Fuzz (1972) holstering $1.7 million against $3.1 million.

Behind the Scenes: “The Wicker Man” (1973) at the Box Office

Cult films don’t come any bigger than The Wicker Man (1973). Regarded as a box office flop in Britain at the time of initial release, it struggled to gain any traction in the U.S., only managing a truncated release there towards the end of the decade. However, closer examination of the box office reveals a different story and suggests both that distributor British Lion was rather harsh in declaring it a box office disaster and that more careful handling on the delayed U.S. release could have produced better results.

In the U.K., it was denied a stand-alone release and went out as the second feature to the critically acclaimed and commercially successful Don’t Look Now (1973) directed with some style by Nicolas Roeg and starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie, and which has, assuredly, stood the test of time. Several weeks after Don’t Look Now launched as a solo feature on October 1973 at the prestigious Odeon Leicester Square in London’s West End it shifted in December to the less prestigious Metropole where it was coupled with The Wicker Man.

It’s my considered opinion that the reason the double bill managed such a long run – around five months – in the West End, moving between various cinemas, was, in substantial part, due to The Wicker Man. It had been released with virtually no fanfare and relied on word-of-mouth to attract an audience and I think it was the beginnings of that cult recognition that resulted in the double bill playing as long.

Given Don’t Look Now was a verified box office hit as a solo feature, it made little sense to couple it with an unfavored second feature since at this point the double bill was losing ground at cinemas. A single bill meant more performances, especially on the vital weekends, and therefore the potential for greater box office.

One of the elements that backed the notion that The Wicker Man was more important to the double bill than the distributors cared to acknowledge was that the fall-off week-by-week was minimal. The double bill played on in London’s West End long after it had completed a circuit run on the Odeon chain, suggesting that its attraction was perhaps due to the unexpected pulling power of The Wicker Man.

In its accounts, British Lion wrote off a $470,000 loss against The Wicker Man. But that seems like an accounting trick. The distributor had a choice in how it allocated the box office. A supporting feature could expect to receive little more than a flat fee as its share of the box office if it was deemed a B-feature. A genuine double bill – and bear in mind that horror maestro Christopher Lee was a box office attraction in Britain – would split the proceeds. That British Lion opted to treat it as a second feature, allowing it to maneuver the box office against the picture. Otherwise, given its low budget, it would certainly have turned a profit. The loss seems even more baffling when you take into account that it was sold to 17 countries.

In any case, since nobody else has tracked The Wicker Man’s actual performance in the UK and the U.S., I thought it might be interesting to do so.

UK (LONDON WEST END) BOX OFFICE 1973-1974

Don’t Look Now/The Wicker Man

Metropole (1,394 seats)

December 19 1973: – $5,300 (Variety deemed this “anaemic”)

December 26 1973: – $4,700

January 2 1974: – $4,900

January 9 1974: – $13,200

January 16 1974: – $9,700 (“very good”)

January 23 1974: – $8,700 (“fine”)

January 30 1974: – $7,700

Odeon Kensington (1,883 seats)

January 16 1974: – $16,800 (“boff”)

January 23 1974: – $13,700 (“robust”)

January 30 1974: – $10,900 (“fancy”)

February 6 1974: – $10,800

February 13 1974: – $9,300 (“stylish”)

February 20 1974: – $6,100

Odeon Haymarket (600 seats)

February 20 1974: – $6,000

February 27 1974: – $8,300

March 6 1974: – $7,700

March 13 1974: – $6,800

March 20 1974: – $7,400

March 27 1974: – $7,100

April 3 1974: – $6,900

April 10, 1974: – $5,700

Cincenta 3 (150 seats)

April 24 1974: – $2,600 (“nice”)

Cinecenta 2 (150 seats)

May 1 1974: – $2,700

It was pretty much unheard of in London’s West for a programme to move around five cinemas, and, with the exception of Cinecenta, running for so long at each venue with a low drop-off week-by-week (steeper falls would have seen runs more speedily terminated). And when it came to the U.S. release, half a decade later, as you can see, much to everyone’s surprise, The Wicker Man on its own delivered both some notable opening figures and lengthy runs.

US BOX OFFICE 1977-1981

The Wicker Man only

Although being rated “R” by the U.S. censor in April 1974 and being reviewed by Variety in May 15 1974, The Wicker Man failed to gain any release in the U.S. even though one-time partner Don’t Look Now was widely distributed. The Wicker Man received a promotional fillip after winning top prize at the Fantastic Festival in 1974 but it wasn’t enough to boost its Stateside distribution prospects. Both National General and New World had considered taking it on but ultimately passed. It ended up at Warner Brothers which stuck it in the vault after a disastrous test at drive-ins in Atlanta and San Diego.

Box Office magazine gave it a favourable review in 1978, calling it a “lost horror classic” and noting that director Robin Hardy had made “an impressive debut.” The version its reviewer saw was cut from the original 102 minutes to 87 minutes. But the version seen by The Hollywood Reporter in 1979 was the restored version and its reviewer reckoned that the “dark intagibles” of its mangled release made it ideal fodder for a “cult audience.” By now PR had kicked in and it received the accolade of a front-page story in The Hollywood Reporter, calling it “reborn” and making play of the problems encountered along the way.

But apart from the Minneapolis misadventure in 1977, it wasn’t until 1979 that it made any release headway. Most of the bookings were in arthouse cinemas. But what is noticeable is length of runs and comparatively small week-by-week drop-offs.

Minneapolis: World (461 seats)

October 5 1977: – $2,000 (“poor”)

San Francisco: Lumiere (300 seats)

January 24, 1979: – $19,000 “boffo”

January 31, 1979: – $15,500

February 7 1979: – $13,000

February 14 1979: – $11,000

February 21 1979: – $10,600

February 28 1979: – $7,000

March 7 1979: – $5,700

March 14 1979: – Not known

March 21 1979: – $5,900

Los Angeles: Los Feliz Westland 1 (763 seats)

March 21 1979: – $19,500

March 28 1979: – $13,500

April 4 1979: – $11,000 (“not bad”)

April 11 1979: – $9,500 (“tidy”)

April 18 1979: – $4,000

April 25 1979: – $4,000

May 2 1979: – $3,100

Los Angeles: showcase release in four other theaters

March 21 1979: – $26,000

March 28 1979: – $18,000 (“pretty”)

Seattle: Crest (700 seats)

April 4 1979: – $7,100

April 11 1979: – $6,700

April 18 1979: – $6,300

April 25 1979: – $4,700

May 2 1979: – $3,300

New York: Paramount (533 seats)

April 2 1980: – $21,000

April 9 1980: – $9,000 (transit strike ruined second and subsequent weeks)

April 16 1980: – $4,400

April 23 1980: – $4,000

Boston: Orson Welles II ( 200 seats)

April 23 1980: – $15,000 (“house record”)

April 30 1980: – $14,000 (“lusty”)

May 7 1980: – $8,800

May 14 1980: – $8,700

May 21 1980: – $7,600

May 28 1980: – $6,200

June 4 1980: – $4,200

June 11 1980: – $5,200

June 18 1980: – $3,200

June 25 1980: – $3,300

Washington: Cerberus II (150 seats)

December 3 1980: – $7,500

December 10 1980: – $5,500

Kansas City: Fine Arts (560 seats)

January 21 1981:– $3,200

Kansas City: Watts Mill (250 seats)

February 11 198l: – $2,500

Miami: showcase release in four cinemas

April 1 1981: – $3,700 (“remote”)

Cleveland:

April 1981: shown as part of the Cleveland International Film Festival

Pittsburgh: Arcade (775 seats)

May 20 1981: – $5,000 (“stout”)

According to an advert in Box Office magazine placed by distributor Abraxas in October 1979, The Wicker Man had already grossed $500,000 on the U.S. west coast. counting it the 1980 and 1981 releases, more than likley it passed the $1 million gross. Whether any of these receipts found their way to British Lion is questionable, so the U.S. box office would have done little to remove the idea it was a flop, but, in fact, counting all the results together, it must have done enough overall to turn a healthy profit.

I should point out that the dates above refer simply to the dates when the box office was reported in “Variety” magazine and not to the actual date when the film was shown. Typically, “Variety” would report box office in the week after a film was shown but this could still be up to 14-17 days after. The actual week 1 / week 2 / week 3 stuff is completley accurate even if the dates might appear misleading.

NOTE/PLEA/WHATEVER: Collecting these figures took a huge amount of work so if you want to pass on this information to others, please acknowledge the source.

SOURCES: Variety, dates as shown; “Coming Releases,” Box Office, September 30, 1974, pA6; Review, Box Office, January 9, 1978, pA9; “Wicker Man Reborn Thanks to Persistent Young Distribs,” The Hollywood Reporter, February 15, 1979, p3; Review, The Hollywood Reporter, February 20, 1979, p3; Advert, Box Office, October 1979, 1979, p16; “Wicker Man Gets Proper Release After 6 Years,” The Hollywood Reporter, April 3, 1980, p1; “Strike Dents N.Y. Box Office,” Box Office, April 14, 1980, p7.

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Behind the Scenes: The 20th Century Fox Box Office Conundrum, Part Three – The Bottom Line

Admission: box office analysts like myself rarely get the full picture. Global figures have been available on a regular basis only since the 1990s and commentators these days are only too keen to inform us just how much revenue a movie has to take in before it can break even. Pictures like the latest Fast and Furious, Indiana Jones and Mission Impossible have little chance of turning a profit, it seems, unless they can pile up in excess of $400 million gross.

Back in the day it was a good deal more complicated. Studios were reluctant to reveal just how profitable or unprofitable movies were. But anyone with an inkling of the correlation between cost and rentals could tell that a $17 million movie like Doctor Dolittle (1967) was going to have a hell of a time turning a profit on U.S. rentals of $6.2 million. But throw in overseas rentals of $10.3 million and its position appeared considerably rosier, especially with television revenue still to come.

*“The Bible” gets the full promotional treatment in the U.K.*

But rentals minus budget did not provide the full picture. Budget reflected negative cost, the amount it took to make a picture. It didn’t take into account all those elements required to ready it for release – advertising, marketing, Pressbook / Campaign Manual, prints, publicity tour, premiere, distribution, studio overhead and interest on the loan necessary to fund the picture. There was a general rule of thumb – to turn a profit you needed to make twice as much in rentals as the movie cost to make.

But that was really only guesswork, an easily-understood equation conjured up to satisfy over-inquisitive journalists. Since the bulk of the journalists in the 1960s covering the business side of Hollywood were American, very often they deemed a movie a success or failure based on domestic receipts and had little understanding or interest in foreign revenues and how they might influence the outcome. In part this was down to distribution patterns. It might take a couple of years to measure a movie’s overall performance once it had completed its entire foreign tour. And that was too long to wait to make the snap decisions journalists favoured.

In any case, there was little prospect of studios in the 1960s opening their books to anyone other than head office to properly divine a movie’s success.

But it turns out there was an internal measure, at least at Twentieth Century Fox. That studio related global rentals to what it termed “estimated rentals required to break even.” That, in turn, provided a guide to the additional costs incurred by movies once filming had been completed but advertising and prints and so on were still to be paid for.

Taking the decade’s best example, The Sound of Music (1965). Initial cost was set at $8.02 million but once everything else had been taken into account the studio needed to generate total rentals of $29.5 million to break even. That was much higher than the 2-to-1 income-to-budget ratio, and more akin to nearly 4-to-1. Luckily, with a global rentals tally approaching $121.5 million there was more than enough in the kitty to meet those costs.

By comparison, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines the same year had a negative cost of $6.5 million. Fox estimated it needed to rake in $17.8 million – a ratio of 3-to-1 – to break even. Again, fortunately, global rentals hit $29.9 million so happy faces all round. Valley of the Dolls (1967), budgeted at $4.69 million, required $9.7 million – just over the supposedly classic 2-to-1 cost-to-profit ratio – and again, by chance, there was another $13 million in rentals to make this venture highly lucrative.

But there was nothing left over from either The Bible (1966) or The Sand Pebbles (1966). Global rentals for the former were $25.3 million and the latter $20.6 million, so you might assume such big hitters had a good chance of turning a profit. Originally budgeted at $15 million, The Bible incurred additional costs of $11.9 million and The Sand Pebbles, costing $12.11 million, was assessed as having an overall cost of $21.2 million. The outcome was that both were deemed financial failures, the former losing nearly $1.6 million, the latter $600,000. But on a cost-to-profit ratio, both came in at under the expected 2-to-1 calculation.

Improved overseas revenue was not necessarily the antidote to a flop. Dr Dolittle (1967) theoretically nearly broke even when foreign brought in $10.1 million in addition to domestic’s $6.2 million. On paper the movie cost $17 million. But additional costs of $14 million scuppered any chance of redemption. Although overseas improved on domestic for Audrey Hepburn’s How to Steal a Million (1966) once all the ancillary costs were added in it still lost $1.55 million and Two for the Road $1.7 million.

And what of stinkers like Justine (1969) and Staircase (1969)? You might imagine in light of their woeful box office performances in the U.S. that the studio saved money by cutting back on advertising and prints. However, in addition to the former being budgeted at $7.87 million and the latter at $6.37 million, they were still loaded down with additional expenditure, another $4.9 million for Justine and $4.23 million for Staircase, in both instances way below the 2-to-1 cost-to-ratio format. Justine was written off to the tune of $10 million and Staircase to $8.5 million.

After all the post-production extras were calculated and global rentals taken into account, Marlon Brando-starrer Morituri (1965) lost $6.4 million, James Stewart in The Flight of the Phoenix (1966) $6 million, Omar Sharif as Che! (1969) $5.3 million, Michael Caine-starrers The Magus (1969) $4.5 million and Deadfall (1968) $2.8 million, The Chairman / The Most Dangerous Man in the World (1969) $4.3 million, Hard Contract (1969) $4 million, and Doris Day-starrers Caprice (1967) $2.7 million and Do Not Disturb (1965) $2 million,

Relatively low cost was no protection against loss. A High Wind in Jamaica (1965) lost $3.7 million, The Visit (1964) $3.5 million, The Flim Flam Man / One Born Every Minute $2.8 million, The Reward (1965) $2.7 million, The Touchables (1969) $2.7 million, Fate Is the Hunter (1964) $2.6 million, Joanna (1969) $1.9 million and Hammer trio The Lost Continent (1968) $900,000, The Viking Queen (1967) $800,000 and The Vengeance of She (1968) $700,000

Even unexpected hit The Blue Max (1966) barely made it into the black. With $16.85 million in global rentals on a budget of $5 million you would have thought there was plenty of fat even with extra post-production costs. Instead, saddled with $9.2 million of additional cost – still below the 2-to-1 projection, it only earned a profit of $2.65 million. The Boston Strangler (1968) cost $4.1 million but with $4.5 million of post-production charges eked out a profit of $2.5 million.

Some pictures were surprisingly profitable. After all costs were met, Zorba the Greek (1965) cleared $6.4 million; Our Man Flint (1966) $5.25 million and In Like Flint (1967) $2.2 million; One Million Years B.C. (1966) $2.17; Dustin Hoffman-Mia Farrow oddball romance John and Mary (1969) $1.8 million; and The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969) $1.2 million;

Despite poor overseas takings Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964) registered a profit of just over $1 million; The Nanny (1965) $800,000; Bedazzled (1967) $725,000; Batman (1966) $700,000; the remake of Stagecoach (1966) with Ann-Margret and Alex Cord $650,000; the low-budget British-made Guns at Batasi (1964) $480,000; and Hammer double bills Dracula: Prince of Darkness / Plague of the Zombies (1966) $800,000 and Rasputin: The Mad Monk / The Reptile (1966) $400,00.

On the profit front from a global perspective Frank Sinatra proved not as safe a pair of hands – The Detective (1968) registered $1.4 million profit and Von Ryan’s Express (1965) $1.3 million but Tony Rome (1967) and its sequel Lady in Cement (1969) ended up in the red, losses of $600,000 and $300,000, respectively. It was also touch-and-go for Raquel Welch. As mentioned above One Million Years B.C. brought in $2.17 million and Bedazzled $725,000, respectively. But Bandolero (1968) lost $1.4 million and 100 Rifles $1.3 million with Fantastic Voyage (1966) and Fathom (1967) both down half a million each.

From 1964 to 1969, author Stephen M. Silverman records that Fox releases generated $714 million in global rentals and still, after additional costs, made a $13 million loss. In the Appendix to his book in the section devoted to these figures, Silverman came across a handwritten assessment of the studio’s year-to-year operation. That breaks down the movies into three categories – losers, just above breakeven and adequate profit. Of the 106 movies distributed over those six years, 76 were deemed outright losers, seven just topped breakeven and 23 made adequate or good profits.

Note: my two sources shown below, while presumably accessing the same figures, used them in different ways. Solomon employed only domestic rentals while Silverman took a global rental approach so it was down to me to subtract domestic from global to unravel foreign rentals and subtract global from initial budget to arrive at the post-production costs.. Any mistakes, of course, are mine.

SOURCES: Stephen M. Silverman, The Fox That Got Away, The Last Days of the Zanuck Dynasty at Twentieth Century Fox (Lyle Stuart Inc, 1988) pp323-328; Aubrey Solomon, Twentieth Century Fox, A Corporate and Financial History (The Scarecrow Press, 2002) pp 228-231, 252-256.

Behind the Scenes: How United Artists Fared In Its First Non-Bond Year – 1966

United Artists didn’t know it yet but James Bond had already peaked – with Thunderball (1965). For the first time since 1962 – when admittedly the spy series had been less important financially – it was facing a year without what had become its key earner. Gone, also, was its other gem The Pink Panther, temporarily wound up after two outings.

So, the studio bet heavily on roadshows, over $21 million committed to historical epics Hawaii and Khartoum, and another $5.5 million on potential roadshow Cast a Giant Shadow. Remove these three from the budget equation and the average cost of the year’s other 21 pictures was a shade over $2 million.

*Actually, a double bill of some proportions, the main feature as big a suprise hit*
*as, in its own way, the support.*

More went on comedy than any other genre, a surprise choice since the rest of the world rarely shared the American sense of humor. The Pink Panther had a lot to answer for. Its success prompted the studio to splash out a colossal $6.8 million on Blake Edwards’ World War Two comedy What Did You Do in the War, Daddy? and another $4.3 million on Peter Sellers vehicle After the Fox.

Billy Wilder (The Apartment, 1960) number The Fortune Cookie, costing $3.7 million, and reuniting the director with Jack Lemmon, seemed a safer bet. Even safer was the mere $1.4 million allocated to Bob Hope comedy, Boy, Did I Get a Wrong Number. A bigger gamble was the more satirical $3.9 million for The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming directed by Norman Jewison (The Cincinatti Kid, 1965).

The studio seemed easily seduced by male director-female star partnerships, forking out a total of $3.4 million for what to the outside eye appeared little more than arthouse fare – Jules Dassin helming wife Melina Mercouri in Mademoiselle and Tony Richardson directing lover Jeanne Moreau in 10.30pm Summer.

*Maybe Bob Hope wasn’t the big attraction after all; maybe it was Elke Sommer.*

Outside of the arthouse, Brigitte Bardot hadn’t enjoyed a hit in the U.S. during the decade so throwing $2.2 million at Viva Maria! seemed as risky as ponying up $1.2 million for Jean-Paul Belmondo, hardly a box office quantity in America, in Up To His Ears.

The studio went back to the well for Return of the Seven and although still starring Yul Brynner the budget was leaner than the original. James Garner and Sidney Poitier appeared a better prospect in the western stakes in Duel at Diablo.

George Roy Hill’s Hawaii, headlined by Julie Andrews, Richard Harris and Max von Sydow, saved the studio’s blushes by taking home the rentals crown, despite a disastrous foreign outing, with $18 million – the domestic market accounting for $16 million of that figure.

But it wasn’t the year’s most profitable picture. That accolade went to The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming, with a fraction of the roadshow’s star wattage, just Alan Arkin and Eva Marie Saint, which marched to $11.85 million in rentals and a profit of just under $8 million. But, as feared, it didn’t tickle foreign fancies, only $2.1 million from foreign.

Hawaii, by comparison, brought in profits of $7.94 million. But questions would surely be asked as to why, with box office darling Julie Andrews attached, it failed to reach expected potential. The source book by James Michener had sold as well abroad as in the home territory. As proven by its overall annual take, UA. especially as roadshows were often more popular globally, counted on foreign producing at least 40% of the domestic tally.

Third and fourth pictures in the profits chart went to unlikely candidates. Bob Hope, with the assistance of Elke Sommer, romped home with $3.65 million in profits but, following the disturbing trend, earned only $750,000 abroad. Return of the Seven posted a $3.62 million profit, reversing the experience of the top three movies by making nearly three times as much abroad than at home, and encouraging the studio to keep going with the series. Plus, especially by the Bond criteria, it had a pitiful budget for a sequel, at $1.74 million a good notch below the year’s average.

No surprises for guessing The Fortune Cookie would fly high, fifth place, with $3.09 million in profit, but, again, proof that American humor just did not travel, foreign rentals at just 37% of domestic. It was the opposite for Louis Malle’s Brigitte Bardot-Jeanne Moreau starrer Viva Maria! – ranked sixth – an almighty flop in the United States but hot stuff elsewhere, with $2.7 million in profits.

A somewhat surprising figure, long discounted at the box office, where his returns were considered only average, took seventh spot. Frankie and Johnny, made on an even smaller budget than Return of the Seven, starring Elvis Presley notched up a glorious $2.4 million profit. And that was followed by another surprise. The teaming of Jean-Paul Belmondo and Ursula Andress in comedy adventure Up To His Ears, directed by Philippe de Broca, worked a treat in foreign markets and not at all in the U.S., but still was significantly in the black on $2.2 million.

Domestic returns were so strong for Oscar-nominated arthouse breakout A Thousand Clowns starring Jason Robards that, despite sinking like a stone elsewhere, it took ninth with $1.375 million just ahead of the far more expensive A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, an adaptation of a Stephen Sondheim’s hit Broadway musical with Zero Mostel reprising the part he played on stage, on $1.34 million.

Missing out on the Top Ten were Melville Shavelson’s Cast a Giant Shadow, budgeted at $5.5 million, but even with an all-star cast including Frank Sinatra, Kirk Douglas and John Wayne, barely scraping into the black with $900,000 profit and Khartoum, with Charlton Heston facing off to Laurence Olivier and costing $7.4 million, that made a loss of $245,000, the former’s appeal relatively even across U.S. and foreign, the latter requiring a big take abroad.

In the cost-to-profit ratio, the unheralded Ambush Bay, a World War Two actioner with Hugh O’Brian and Mickey Rooney, delivered amazing results, especially considering it was made on a minuscule $640,000. But with a stronger response outside the U.S. it knocked up $1 million profit, better than Ralph Nelson’s higher-budgeted Duel at Diablo which managed only $873,000 and Sidney Lumet’s The Group – only $609,000.

At the other end of the scale, the out-and-out loser, despite James Coburn on the marquee, was What Did You Do in the War, Daddy? which trekked home trailing a loss of $2.75 million. 10.30pm Summer and Mademoiselle both struck out, the former $1 million in the red, the latter $983,000, both substantially reliant on foreign box office. Mademoiselle returned the third-lowest rental figure in the U.S. – just $100,000.

Peter Sellers’ box office pedigree took a hammering when Vittorio De Sica’s After the Fox co-starring Britt Ekland knocked up a loss of $432,000, again foreign audiences less taken with the humor. While satire worked for The Russians Are Coming, it crippled George Axelrod’s Lord Love A Duck starring Roddy McDowell and Tuesday Weld, ending up on a $371,000 loss.

It’s always salutary to put yourself in the position of the studio executives and try to guess ahead of release what the year’s film’s will achieve at the box office. Sometimes, the studio will breathe a sigh of relief when the pictures it bet the house on just manage to eke out a profit. And excepting foreign indifference to Hawaii, investment was pretty much borne out.

But since, as Hollywood screenwriter William Goldman so succinctly pointed out, “nobody knows anything,” I guess the head honchos would not be surprised that the little movies often did better than the big ones and possibly frankly couldn’t care less as long as overall the studio made more than it lost, which in this case translated to an overall $30 million profit.

SOURCE: “United Artists Corporation and Subsidiaries, Motion Picture Negative Costs for Pictures Released in the Year to January 3, 1967,” University of Wisconsin.

Top 20 Behind the Scenes: January to June 2023

As you may be aware, this blog is quite unusual, you might say unique (although to prove it I’d have to check a gazillion sites) in paying attention to the way films are made rather than just the movie itself. Casting issues, directorial squabbles, source material, the myriad on-set dramas are all covered here.

Waterloo (1970). The making of the film was more fascinating than the film itself.
Ice Station Zebra (1968). Alistair Maclean’s Arctic thriller went though a ton of casting changes and embraced new techniques to get to the screen.
In Harm’s Way (1965). No Otto Preminger picture is without incident but with one of his most top-notch casts including John Wayne and Kirk Douglas it was always going to be an incendiary set.
The Satan Bug (1965). Director John Sturges got into all sorts of tangles trying to film Alistair MacLean plague thriller.
Cast A Giant Shadow (1966). Melville Shavelson, better known for comedies, risked his reputation on this Israeli biopic, re-teaming John Wayne and Kirk Douglas with Angie Dickinson and Senta Berger as the love interests.
Spartacus (1961). Not the version you know so well but the one Yul Brynner attempted to make at the same time.
Naked Under Leather / The Girl on a Motorcycle (1968). The erotic, the psychedelic and controversial clashed in Jack Cardiff drama starring Marianne Faithfull and Alain Delon.
Battle of the Bulge (1965). The epic Cinerama production had to see off a rival production before encountering horrendous weather in Spain.
The Guns of Navarone (1961). After first choice stars dropped out, the production was nearly cancelled when it was scheduled to film in a war zone. David Niven nearly died, the biggest set was destroyed, the budget muschroomed and producer Carl Foreman battled Columbia in an attempt to win a prestigious roadshow release.
100 Rifles (1969). Never mind the miscegenation, the violence caused an uproar as Raquel Welch and Jim Brown teamed up in more ways than one to topple a ruthless Mexican regime. Also starring Burt Reynolds. Hot sex and an even hotter shower scene.
When Global Box Office Didn’t Exist. In the 1960s movies lived or died by the U.S. box office figures. In an exclusive report, I reveal how movies actually fared when you took overseas box office into account.
Sink the Bismarck (1962). British World War Two drama overcomes endless obstacles.
The Deadly Companions (1961). The producers were so dismissive of Sam Peckinpah’s maiden effort that the only way they could think of selling it was on the back of a nude dip in a pool by star Maureen O’Hara.
The Cincinnati Kid (1965). Another Peckinpah disaster. He was fired for filming an unscripted nude scene. Steve McQueen was sent to Las Vegas to gamble with the studio’s money while they found a replacement.
Night of the Living Dead (1968). Poster boy for the low-budget shocker. Astonishing that it ever saw the light of day.
The Shoes of the Fisherman (1968). MGM roadshow that tried to fuse the Vatican and the Communists.
Top of the Box Office Flops – box office figures were much harder to come by in the 1960s. Here, I exclusively reveal the extent of the films made by United Artists between 1965 and 1969 that bit the dust.
They Shoot Horses, Don’t They (1969). Originally mooted in the 1930s, various previous developments were halted in their tracks for financial or artistic reasons.
The Bridge at Remagen (1969). The location of the actual bridge for the famed World War Two battle was long gone, but when the production opted to film in Yugoslavia it hadn’t counted on being caught up in an uprising.
The Borgia Stick / F.B.I. vs Gangsters (1967). How one of the earliest movies specifically made for American television won a cinema release overseas. Rather than investing in occasional one-offs, Universal wanted to create a brand, the “World Premiere” series, but it had to rely on up-and-comers like Inger Stevens and fading stars like Don Murray.

There Is Nothing Like a Flop

The only thing Hollywood liked better than whooping with delight over a hit was crowing with delight over a flop. In the 1960s you couldn’t move for hindsight. And far from it being the end of the decade that Hollywood was kicked in the financial teeth, mostly from over-investment in musicals, there was also a sea of red ink at the start.

Comparing budget with rentals returned to the studios (i.e. their share of the takings once cinemas had taken their cut of the box office gross) produced a league table that nobody wanted to scale.

Atop the pillar of shame, sitting on a monumental $18.1 million loss (reached by comparing budget to U.S. rentals – see Note below) was the last of the Samuel Bronston epics, The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964), directed by Anthony Mann and starring Alec Guinness, Sophia Loren and Stephen Boyd.

You won’t be surprised to find Cleopatra (1963), driven to publicity heights by the ruckus over the adulterous affair of stars Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, in second place. If it hadn’t cost so much – $44 million – it might have easily turned a profit since box office rentals were a massive $26 million. But you can’t deny the arithmetic that meant this showed an $18 million shortfall, and therefore on paper a staggering flop.

Not far behind was Doctor Dolittle (1967), one of the biggest musical fiascos in an era of musical disasters. Although Oscar-winning Rex Harrison was the star, audiences couldn’t be persuaded it was anything more than a glorified Disney-style picture for children, and it lost $15.8 million.

The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) should have been the greatest box office story ever told had director George managed to inject a bit more humanity into the sanctimonious retelling. Without a box office miracle this came in short by $13.1 million.

And no prizes for guessing that Mutiny on the Bounty (1962), with Marlon Brando stranded on an island by Trevor Howard, found income did not go far enough to offset cost. It underperformed to the tune of $12.6 million..

Star! (1968) must have seemed like a safe bet given Julie Andrews’ last three musicals had turned hefty profits. But it was so off the pace that it fell $10.8 million shy of break-even.

Bond producer Harry Saltzman was astonished, not to say humiliated, to discover there was such little appetite Stateside for an all-star version of how The Battle of Britain (1969) was won. Hadn’t every Hollywood movie insisted that war pictures only succeeded with a prominent Yank in the cast? One of the biggest hits of the year in Britain, it would still have to go some to overcome a $10 million discrepancy.

The problem with Hollywood was it was greenlighting projects that had to do phenomenal business just to reach a profit. And although Barbra Streisand’s debut Funny Girl (1968) had struck box office and critical gold, even she could not save Hello, Dolly! when it racked up such high costs. The downside was $8.8 million.

The unlikely casting of three non-singers – Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood and Jean Seberg – in the principal roles of Paint Your Wagon (1969) seemed an act of incalculable hubris, but surprisingly, the musical did better than expected, not enough to turn the corner into profit, but losses limited to $5.5 million in the U.S. part of the course.

In tenth place was a second Samuel Bronston miscalculation, 55 Days at Peking (1963). Why would American audiences be interested in an obscure war in China even if Charlton Heston took top-billing? Such disinterest ensured it fell $5 million short of the target.

Overruns on John Wayne’s pet project The Alamo (1960) meant he ended up in debt. His fans were disinclined to line up for a roadshow, which put the dampers on the launch. Hollywood was stunned that a John Wayne movie lost money – $4.1 million – it was such a career rarity.

Another Bond alumni Albert Broccoli took the financial tumble this time when Dick Van Dyke failed to work his Mary Poppins magic in another musical aimed more at children than adults, Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang (1968).

Three other pictures ended up in the red as the result of over-expenditure. The Bible (1966) missed break-even by $3 million, Spartacus (1961) by $1.7 million, and another musical, Camelot (1967) starring non-singer Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave by $1 million.

But if Hollywood thought it had weathered the worst of the financial storm it was in for a shock the following year when top-heavy star vehicles hit the skits. Waterloo with Rod Steiger and Christopher Plummer lost $23.6 million, The Molly Maguires with Sean Connery and Richard Harris $9.9 million and The Only Game in Town toplining Elizabeth Taylor and Warren Beatty $8.5 million

NOTE: It’s entirely possible that once you calculated a movie’s long tail all these films turned profit. The foreign performance of films on initial release often out-grossed their domestic revenues, especially if roadshown in Europe. Revenue from half a century’s worth of countless television sales in countless countries followed by satellite, VHS, DVD, satellite, syndication, Blu-Ray and streaming had the potential to turn any loss into profit.

But there was a proviso. Generally, what a television station paid for a movie depended on its initial gross, box office seen to be indicative of public demand – and of advertising interest . The leasing of Cleopatra first time round to U.S. television, for example, added an extra $3 million to the coffers but that small screen executives were willing to pay such a record sum was driven by the vast numbers that had seen it at the cinema. And, to a large extent, future response to these movies still appeared to depend of how well they had done or how well they were known – a long-term version of word-of-mouth – at the time of their initial release..

On initial global release Cleopatra probably closed the gap between profit and loss but I doubt that would be the case for The Fall of the Roman Empire or The Greatest Story Ever Told or Doctor Dolittle or Mutiny on the Bounty. While The Battle of Britain was a huge success in Britain and in countries belonging to the British Commonwealth, I doubt it went into the black. But something like Spartacus or Camelot or The Alamo or Paint Your Wagon, which ran for a year in roadshow in London, most certainly turned a profit on overall worldwide receipts.

SOURCE: “Big-Buck Scorecard 1956-1987,” Variety, January 20, 1088, p64, 66.

How the Box Office Was Won – 1963

Although the weekly computerized box office system covering the Top 50 pictures and drawing on information supplied by nearly 1,000 cinemas in the United States did not appear, courtesy of Variety magazine, until 1969, there still existed a weekly tabulation, based on receipts from a smaller base from which the magazine produced a weekly Top Ten. And although box office watching was not yet a recognized leisure activity, what movies made and their rankings on the weekly box office chart were compulsive reading for the thousands of cinema owners hoping to snap up the next big one and the Hollywood studios gambling they had released the next big one.

So I thought it might be fun to track box office throughout the year, based on that weekly chart.

By 1963 Hollywood had turned into a casino. To beat the growing threat of television, the movie industry was committed to bigger pictures with, unfortunately, bigger budgets, heralding in the roadshow era, the 1960s equivalent of 3D or Imax with premium prices and reserved seats and two shows a day. Despite John Wayne’s 1960 epic The Alamo proving such gambles could spectacularly backfire, studios had a slate of movies that, if failures, could clean them out. Already fears were mounting that Brando’s Mutiny On The Bounty, opened in October 1962, would never recover its $19m cost.

Cinerama staked a fortune on its first story-led movie How The West Was Won and Columbia Pictures had bet the house on a 3-hour 20-minute opus Lawrence of Arabia that starred a complete unknown. The latter had opened at Xmas 1962 and if it was to make its money back had to play well night through most of 1963 on the roadshow circuit. If that wasn’t enough, blizzards mashed up the country and a three-month newspaper strike in New York meant – in the days before television marketing – there was nowhere to promote big new movies, delaying the U.S. opening of How the West Was Won. .

But Lawrence was monumental, playing to capacity crowds for a dozen weeks at the Criterion in New York, clearing $43,000 – equivalent to over $400,000 now – every week. In in the fifth week, by dint of adding an extra show, it broke its own record.

Roadshows opened in a handful of cinemas – knocking up revenues today’s exhibitors would envy – and playing seemingly forever (in the UK, for example South Pacific was being readied for general release four years after its premiere).

So big movies were slow-burners and Lawrence didn’t top the charts till week six of the 1963 box office calendar . Its reign lasted only two weeks, replaced by Gregory Peck’s To Kill A Mockingbird which in one cinema alone, New York’s legendary 6,000-seater Radio City Music Hall, had taken $160,000 (about $1.5 million now). That was knocked aside by the season’s first surprise hit, Disney’s Son of Flubber which went on to become the year’s seventh top grosser – ahead of Mockingbird. It wasn’t the only surprise. Biblical tango Sodom and Gomorrah went to number one in its first week, a rarity, although it quickly faded. The third surprise chart topper, in March, gave comic mainstay Jack Lemmon his first serious role in Days of Wine and Roses. Hitchcock’s The Birds took over the perch in mid-April before How The West Was Won which reigned for weeks.

Over the January-April period, other hits, that is enjoying some weeks in the Top 12 chart, in their opening stanzas were Charlton Heston’s Hawaiian movie Diamond Head, Yul Brynner and Tony Curtis squaring up in Taras Bulba, Laurence Olivier drama Term of Trial, Anthony Quinn in Barabbas, Dean Martin comedy Who’s Got The Action, small-budget David and Lisa and the pairing of Robert Mitchum and Shirley Maclaine (sparking their affair) in the adaptation of Broadway hit Two For the Seesaw. Bear in mind, however, that initial success was no guarantee – what played to packed houses in New York or Los Angeles might empty theatres in Arkansas.

But the year’s biggest gamble appeared to be already paying off. Cleopatra had sold out its first 19 nights six months ahead of its June premiere and taken $8m in cash advances from cinemas in 20 cities. And there was also the little matter of the forthcoming release of the British box office sensation Dr No.

The summer period – May through to the end of August – was marked by three enormous gambles as How The West Was Won, Cleopatra and 55 Days At Peking took center stage. The western boasted John Wayne, James Stewart and Debbie Reynolds. Cleopatra was the most expensive film ever, at four hours nearly the longest and, thanks to Burton-Taylor’s shenanigans the most scandal-ridden.

Summer as we know it – with Memorial Day and Independence Day massively important – did not exist in the 1960s. Until the roadshow, opening dates were not juggled, movies simply released as soon as made. The importance of advance bookings for roadshows altered the pattern. Unlike now when saturation screening means nobody is turned away on opening weekend, the definition of a hit was being made to wait . Epics like El Cid, Lawrence of Arabia, and How The West Was Won were publicized months ahead and Cleopatra set the marketing bar at insane levels.

*That’s Irma, by the way, of “Douce” fame.*

How the West Was Won was No 1 in the Variety chart for eight weeks, notching up fabulous returns, but nothing to match Cleopatra which peaked for nine weeks and grossed $3.1 million in 33 days – faster than any roadshow before. 55 Days at Peking, Samuel Bronston’s follow-up to El Cid, surprisingly not roadshown, grabbed No 1 in its opening week but tumbled fast. Dr No, pulverizing the UK box office the previous year, suffered by going on release too fast. Unable, like roadshows, to groom an audience, it didn’t hit number one and lasted only four weeks in the Top Ten. In his last hit for a decade, Brando did better – The Ugly American managing eight weeks, again not a chart-topper..

Others featuring in various slots in the Top Ten were a mean Paul Newman in Hud, Frank Sinatra in Come Blow Your Horn, the Jack Lemmon-Shirley Maclaine non-musical adaptation of the Broadway musical Irma La Douce, The Great Escape (charting for 13 weeks), and Doris Day in The Thrill of It All. Surprise appearances included Ray Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts, Peter Sellers’ The Wrong Arm of the Law, Hayley Mills in Summer Magic, Sandra Dee in Tammy and the Doctor and teen dreams Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello in Beach Party. Biggest disappointment was John Wayne’s Donovan’s Reef which only lasted one week at in the chart and then on its lowest rung – No 10.

But taboos were broken that summer, changing cinema forever. Sneaking into the Top Ten were the original ‘shockumentary’ Mondo Cane, adult fare like Lillian Hellman’s Toys in the Attic, the first of the British kitchen-sink dramas The L-Shaped Room (“Sex Is Not A Forbidden Word!” the catchy catchline) starring Leslie Caron as an unmarried mother, Joanne Woodward in The Stripper and most, astonishingly of all, Fellini’s 8½.

How studios must have loved the release system in those days. Instead of movies being whipped off screens after three or four weeks or to fit into a preconceived streaming showing, big hits, especially roadshows, could hold onto their screens for months and months.

For the September-to-December period of 1963, the biggest stars were Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Cleopatra spent another seven weeks at No 1 in the Top Ten, The VIPs three weeks. But Jack Lemmon ran them close as star of the year. Just after Irma La Douce ended a 21-week Top Ten run, Under The Yum Yum Tree snapped top spot in December. Cleopatra was hardly innocuous, and Irma was a prostitute, but Yum Yum went much further with Lemmon playing a lascivious landlord renting rooms to nubile girls.

Bubbling under the American psyche was a desire for the illicit. What else explained the appearance in the Top Ten of films about mental illness – Sam Fuller’s Shock Corridor and The Caretakers starring Robert Stack. Even Paul Newman’s latest hit A New Kind of Love pivoted on Joanne Woodward being mistaken for a call-girl. The Top Ten seethed with ‘Adult’ or ‘Continental’ themes – ‘shockumentary’ Women of the World, children as feral monsters in Lord of the Flies, the title of the Italian Cannes-winner The Conjugal Bed said it all while In The French Style with Jean Seberg only hinted at it. Fellini’s 8½ paved the way for arthouse break-out Visconti’s The Leopard starring Burt Lancaster which, incredibly, peaked at No 5. Sophia Loren led a star-studded European cast in The Condemned of Altona based on the Jean-Paul Sartre book. Robert Wise’s seminal horror film The Haunting spent a week in Top Ten. More significantly, Sidney Poitier broke through the glass ceiling to become the first African American actor to have a significant hit with Lilies of the Field.

Back in the mainstream, Debbie Reynolds’ Mary Mary, based on the Broadway hit, spent two weeks at No 1. Hollywood stalwarts charting successfully included Kirk Douglas in For Love Or Money, James Stewart (with Sandra Dee) in Take Her She’s Mine, Robert Mitchum (plus sexpot Elsa Martinelli) in African adventure Rampage, John Wayne in spanking good form with Maureen O’Hara in McLintock and Elvis in Fun in Acapulco. . Surprise successes were The Incredible Journey and television’s Dr Kildare Richard Chamberlain in courtroom drama Twilight of Honor plus two Disney reissues – Fantasia and Kirk Douglas in 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.

The year’s blockbusters showed astonishing legs – How The West Was Won playing 52 weeks in the Top Ten, Lawrence of Arabia 41.

The Top Ten grossing films of the year were (in order) – Cleopatra, The Longest Day, Irma La Douce, Lawrence of Arabia, How The West Was Won, Mutiny On The Bounty, Son of Flubber, To Kill A Mockingbird, Bye Bye Birdie and Come Blow Your Horn.