From Scrap Metal to Silver Screen
In the summer of 1885, a four-year-old boy named Lazar Meir stood on the deck of a steamship watching the Statue of Liberty emerge from New York Harbor's morning fog. He clutched his mother's hand as they disembarked at Castle Garden, part of the great wave of Eastern European Jewish immigrants fleeing pogroms and poverty. The boy who would become Louis B. Mayer—the most powerful man in Hollywood—arrived in America with nothing but the clothes on his back and a family determined to survive.
The Meir family settled in Saint John, New Brunswick, where young Lazar's father Jacob scraped together a living collecting scrap metal and rags. By age twelve, Lazar was working alongside his father, learning the brutal economics of buying low and selling high. But even as a child, he displayed an unusual talent for reading people and understanding what they wanted. When other scrap dealers saw worthless junk, young Lazar saw opportunity.
In 1904, at nineteen, Lazar Meir made his first calculated gamble. He had saved $600—a fortune for a scrap dealer's son—and instead of expanding the family business, he bought a run-down burlesque theater in Haverhill, Massachusetts. His father was furious, but Lazar had seen something others missed: the growing appetite for entertainment among America's working class. He renamed himself Louis B. Mayer, adding the middle initial for gravitas and moving his birthday to July 4th—a theatrical flourish that would define his entire career.
By the Numbers
Mayer's Early Theater Empire
$600Initial investment in first theater, 1904
12Theaters owned by 1918
$50,000Annual profit from theater chain by 1915
The Gem Theater was a disaster when Mayer bought it—sticky floors, broken seats, and a reputation for attracting the roughest crowds in Haverhill. But Mayer understood something fundamental about entertainment: people didn't just want to escape their lives, they wanted to feel elevated by the experience. He spent his first profits not on cheaper films, but on cleaning the theater, hiring ushers in uniforms, and creating an atmosphere of respectability. Within two years, the Gem was the most successful theater in the region.
Mayer's genius lay in recognizing that movies weren't just entertainment—they were dreams made visible. While other theater owners focused on the cheapest films available, Mayer paid premium prices for quality productions. In 1915, he made a deal that would change his life forever: he paid $50,000 for the New England distribution rights to D.W. Griffith's "The Birth of a Nation." The film was controversial, expensive, and three hours long—everything other distributors avoided. Mayer saw it differently. He understood that controversy created conversation, and conversation sold tickets.
"I want to make pictures that glorify America and the American way of life. I want to tell stories that will make people proud to be Americans."
— Louis B. Mayer
The gamble paid off spectacularly. "The Birth of a Nation" earned Mayer over $500,000 in profit—more money than he had ever imagined. But more importantly, it taught him that audiences would pay premium prices for premium experiences. By 1918, he owned a chain of twelve theaters across New England and had accumulated enough capital to make his next move: Hollywood.
The Birth of a Studio Empire
When Louis B. Mayer arrived in Los Angeles in 1918, Hollywood was still a collection of orange groves and ramshackle studios. The film industry was dominated by East Coast companies, and most productions were shot quickly and cheaply. Mayer saw chaos where others saw an established order. He rented a small studio in East Hollywood and founded Louis B. Mayer Pictures with a simple philosophy: make fewer films, but make them better.
His first production, "Virtuous Wives" (1918), cost $47,000 to produce—nearly double the industry average. Other producers thought he was insane, but Mayer understood that audiences could sense quality, even if they couldn't articulate it. The film's success proved his theory: people would pay more for better entertainment, and exhibitors would pay more for films that drew crowds.
But Mayer's real breakthrough came with his approach to talent. While other studios treated actors like interchangeable parts, Mayer saw them as brands to be built and protected. In 1919, he signed Anita Stewart to an unprecedented contract: $4,000 per week for two years, plus a percentage of profits. The deal shocked the industry, but Mayer understood that stars weren't just performers—they were the emotional connection between the studio and its audience.
The strategy worked brilliantly until it didn't. By 1923, Mayer's company was successful but small, competing against much larger studios with deeper pockets. He faced a choice: remain independent and risk being crushed, or find a way to scale up dramatically. The solution came from an unexpected source: Marcus Loew, the theater chain magnate who needed a steady supply of films for his growing empire of movie palaces.
In 1924, Loew orchestrated one of the most significant mergers in entertainment history. He combined his Metro Pictures Corporation with Samuel Goldwyn's Goldwyn Pictures and Louis B. Mayer Pictures to create Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. The deal made Mayer the head of production with an unprecedented contract: $1,500 per week plus 20% of the studio's annual profits. At thirty-nine, the scrap dealer's son from New Brunswick had become the highest-paid executive in America.
By the Numbers
The MGM Merger
$1,500Mayer's weekly salary in 1924
20%Percentage of MGM profits in Mayer's contract
$1.2MMayer's total compensation in 1937
Building the Dream Factory
MGM's Culver City lot in 1924 was a collection of hastily constructed buildings and outdoor sets. Mayer envisioned something grander: a factory that manufactured dreams with the efficiency of Ford's assembly line but the craftsmanship of a luxury goods atelier. Over the next five years, he invested over $15 million in creating what would become known as the most prestigious studio in Hollywood.
The physical transformation was remarkable, but Mayer's real innovation was organizational. He created the first truly integrated studio system, controlling every aspect of filmmaking from script development to theater exhibition. Writers, directors, actors, cinematographers, composers, and editors were all under exclusive contract, allowing Mayer to assemble teams with the precision of a master chef selecting ingredients.
At the heart of this system was Mayer's star factory. He didn't just sign talented performers; he created a comprehensive system for developing, protecting, and marketing them. New arrivals underwent months of training in acting, dancing, singing, and deportment. They were assigned publicity teams, given carefully crafted backstories, and protected from scandal by the studio's formidable publicity machine.
The crown jewel of this system was Greta Garbo, whom Mayer signed in 1925 for $270 per week. Within three years, she was earning $5,000 per week and had become the most bankable star in the world. But Garbo was just one success in a constellation of talent that included Joan Crawford, Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, Judy Garland, and Mickey Rooney. By 1935, MGM had more stars under contract than any other studio in history.
"Louis has the best understanding of mass psychology of anyone I've ever known. He knows what audiences want before they know it themselves."
— Irving Thalberg
Mayer's partnership with Irving Thalberg, MGM's head of production, created the most successful creative collaboration in Hollywood history. While Mayer focused on the business side and star development, Thalberg oversaw the actual filmmaking process. Together, they established MGM's reputation for prestige productions that combined commercial appeal with artistic ambition.
Their first major success was "Ben-Hur" (1925), which cost an unprecedented $3.9 million to produce. The film's chariot race sequence alone required 42 cameras and took months to shoot. Other studios considered it a folly, but Mayer understood that spectacle, properly executed, created an emotional experience that audiences would pay premium prices to see. "Ben-Hur" earned over $9 million worldwide and established MGM as the studio that could deliver both artistic achievement and commercial success.
The Golden Age Ascendant
The late 1920s and 1930s represented the peak of Mayer's power and influence. MGM released an average of fifty films per year, each one bearing the studio's distinctive mark of quality and polish. The famous motto "Ars Gratia Artis" (Art for Art's Sake) wasn't just marketing—it reflected Mayer's genuine belief that movies should elevate and inspire audiences.
This philosophy manifested in MGM's approach to every aspect of filmmaking. The studio's art department, led by Cedric Gibbons, created sets of unprecedented luxury and detail. The costume department, under Adrian's direction, established fashion trends that influenced how Americans dressed. Even the studio's commissary was designed to impress, with white tablecloths and waiters in formal attire.
But Mayer's greatest achievement was creating a consistent brand identity across dozens of films and hundreds of performers. MGM movies had a distinctive look and feel—glossy, optimistic, and aspirational. They celebrated American values while acknowledging the complexity of human nature. Whether it was a Joan Crawford melodrama, a Clark Gable adventure, or a Judy Garland musical, audiences knew they were getting the MGM experience.
The numbers tell the story of this success. In 1937, MGM's profit was $14.2 million—more than any other studio. The company's market capitalization exceeded $200 million, making it one of the most valuable entertainment companies in the world. Mayer's personal compensation that year was $1.2 million, making him the highest-paid executive in any industry.
By the Numbers
MGM at Its Peak (1937)
$14.2MAnnual profit
50Films released per year
4,000Employees on payroll
$200MMarket capitalization
The studio's roster during this period reads like a who's who of Hollywood royalty. Greta Garbo commanded $270,000 per film. Clark Gable earned $7,500 per week. Joan Crawford, Spencer Tracy, William Powell, Myrna Loy, and Robert Taylor were all among the highest-paid performers in the industry. But Mayer's greatest discovery was a sixteen-year-old girl from Grand Rapids, Minnesota, named Frances Gumm, whom he renamed Judy Garland.
Garland's story exemplifies both the brilliance and the darkness of Mayer's system. He recognized her extraordinary talent immediately and invested heavily in her development. But he also subjected her to the studio's rigid control system, including diet pills to keep her thin and sleeping pills to help her rest between grueling shooting schedules. The relationship between Mayer and Garland would become emblematic of Hollywood's complex relationship with its stars—part father figure, part exploiter, always focused on the bottom line.
War, Change, and Decline
World War II marked the beginning of the end of Mayer's dominance, though he didn't recognize it at the time. The war created new challenges and opportunities for Hollywood studios. Government restrictions on materials limited set construction, while the demand for escapist entertainment reached new heights. MGM's response was typical of Mayer's approach: double down on quality and star power.
The studio's wartime productions included some of its greatest successes. "Mrs. Miniver" (1942) won six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. "Meet Me in St. Louis" (1944) showcased Judy Garland at her peak and became one of the highest-grossing films of the decade. "The Best Years of Our Lives" (1946) addressed the challenges facing returning veterans with unprecedented honesty and emotional depth.
But beneath these successes, the industry was changing in ways that would ultimately undermine Mayer's power. The 1948 Supreme Court decision in United States v. Paramount Pictures forced studios to divest their theater chains, breaking up the vertically integrated system that had been the source of their power. Television was beginning to compete for audiences' attention. And a new generation of actors, directors, and agents was challenging the studio system's paternalistic control.
Mayer's response to these changes revealed both his strengths and his limitations. He continued to invest in expensive productions and top-tier talent, believing that quality would always find an audience. In 1950, he signed a deal to produce "Quo Vadis" for $7 million—the most expensive film ever made at that time. The film was a commercial success, but its massive budget and lengthy production schedule highlighted the inefficiencies of the old studio system.
"The inventory of a motion picture company is not in its real estate, not in its equipment, but in the hearts and minds of the people who work for it."
— Louis B. Mayer
More troubling for Mayer was the changing relationship between studios and talent. Stars like Clark Gable and Joan Crawford were demanding more creative control and higher percentages of profits. Directors like John Huston and William Wyler wanted final cut privileges. Agents like Lew Wasserman were negotiating deals that gave their clients unprecedented power and compensation.
The final blow came from within MGM itself. In 1948, Dore Schary was hired as head of production, effectively replacing the deceased Irving Thalberg and reducing Mayer's day-to-day control over filmmaking. Schary represented a new generation of Hollywood executives—younger, more liberal, and less interested in the paternalistic star system that had been Mayer's greatest achievement.
The conflict between Mayer and Schary came to a head in 1951 over the production of "The Red Badge of Courage." Mayer opposed the project, believing that audiences weren't interested in a Civil War drama without major stars or a love story. Schary pushed forward anyway, and the film's commercial failure seemed to vindicate Mayer's instincts. But by then, it was too late. The MGM board, led by Nicholas Schenck, had decided that Mayer's time had passed.
The End of an Era
On June 23, 1951, Louis B. Mayer cleaned out his office at MGM for the last time. He had spent twenty-seven years building the studio into the most prestigious and profitable entertainment company in the world. His departure marked the end of the studio system's golden age and the beginning of modern Hollywood's more fragmented, agent-driven structure.
The immediate cause of Mayer's departure was a power struggle with Dore Schary, but the deeper issue was his inability to adapt to a changing industry. The man who had revolutionized entertainment by understanding what audiences wanted had lost touch with a new generation of moviegoers. His films still made money, but they no longer set the cultural agenda the way they had in the 1930s and 1940s.
Mayer's final years were marked by failed comeback attempts and bitter reflections on an industry that had moved beyond him. He tried to establish an independent production company, but the old magic was gone. The personal relationships that had been the foundation of his power had been severed, and the new Hollywood operated according to different rules.
He died on October 29, 1957, at the age of seventy-three. His funeral was attended by hundreds of Hollywood luminaries, but the eulogies had a valedictory quality—they were mourning not just a man, but an entire era of American entertainment.
By the Numbers
Mayer's Legacy
27Years as head of MGM
1,700+Films produced under his leadership
168Academy Awards won by MGM during his tenure
$500M+Total box office revenue generated
The irony of Mayer's career is that his greatest strength—his ability to create and control a comprehensive entertainment ecosystem—became his greatest weakness as that ecosystem evolved beyond his control. He had built MGM to be the perfect expression of his vision of what movies should be: glamorous, optimistic, and morally uplifting. When audiences began demanding different kinds of stories told in different ways, he couldn't adapt.
But his influence on American culture was profound and lasting. The star system he created established the template for celebrity culture that persists today. His emphasis on production values and technical excellence raised the bar for the entire industry. Most importantly, his belief that movies should aspire to be more than mere entertainment—that they should inspire, educate, and elevate their audiences—established a standard of artistic ambition that continues to influence filmmakers today.
The Mayer Method: Building Entertainment Empire
Louis B. Mayer's success wasn't accidental—it was the result of a sophisticated understanding of human psychology, market dynamics, and organizational management that was decades ahead of its time. His approach to building and running MGM established principles that remain relevant for anyone seeking to create and scale a creative enterprise.
From his first theater in Haverhill to MGM's most expensive productions, Mayer consistently bet on quality over quantity. While competitors focused on cost-cutting and volume, he understood that audiences would pay premium prices for premium experiences. This wasn't just about spending more money—it was about understanding that perceived value drives pricing power.
Mayer's quality strategy had three components: superior production values, exclusive talent, and consistent brand experience. Every MGM film, regardless of budget, met certain standards for cinematography, set design, and costume quality. This consistency created audience expectations that allowed the studio to charge higher prices and command better theater bookings.
The financial results validated this approach. MGM's average production cost was 40% higher than the industry average, but their films generated 60% higher box office returns. The quality premium wasn't just about charging more—it was about creating sustainable competitive advantage through differentiation.
Vertical Integration as Competitive Moat
Mayer understood that controlling the entire value chain—from talent development to theater exhibition—created multiple sources of competitive advantage. This vertical integration allowed MGM to capture more value from each film while reducing dependence on external partners who might have conflicting interests.
The studio's talent development system exemplified this approach. Rather than competing for established stars, MGM created its own through comprehensive training programs, publicity campaigns, and carefully managed career development. This gave the studio access to top-tier talent at below-market rates while creating deep loyalty relationships that were difficult for competitors to break.
Similarly, MGM's ownership of theater chains ensured guaranteed distribution for their films while providing valuable market intelligence about audience preferences. This feedback loop allowed the studio to adjust production decisions based on real-time market data—a significant advantage in an industry where success was often unpredictable.
The Star System: Human Capital as Strategic Asset
Mayer's greatest innovation was recognizing that in the entertainment industry, human capital wasn't just an input—it was the primary source of value creation. His approach to talent management was revolutionary for its time and remains instructive for modern creative industries.
The star system had three key elements: systematic talent development, brand protection, and strategic positioning. New talent underwent months of training not just in performance skills, but in public speaking, deportment, and media relations. This investment created performers who could represent the studio's brand values both on and off screen.
Brand protection involved comprehensive management of stars' public images, including control over their personal appearances, romantic relationships, and public statements. While this level of control would be unacceptable today, it demonstrated Mayer's understanding that celebrity brands required active management to maintain their value.
Strategic positioning involved matching stars with appropriate roles and co-stars to maximize their appeal and longevity. Mayer understood that stars weren't just individual performers—they were part of an ecosystem where their success was interdependent.
"A star is not just someone who can act. A star is someone who can make people care about what happens to them on screen."
— Louis B. Mayer
Perhaps Mayer's greatest skill was his ability to understand and anticipate mass market emotional needs. He recognized that successful entertainment wasn't just about technical quality or star power—it was about creating emotional experiences that resonated with large audiences.
This emotional intelligence manifested in several ways. First, Mayer insisted that every MGM film have clear moral themes that reinforced positive values. He understood that audiences wanted to feel good about the entertainment they consumed, and that films which left viewers feeling uplifted were more likely to generate positive word-of-mouth.
Second, he paid careful attention to the emotional arc of his stars' careers, ensuring that their on-screen personas evolved in ways that maintained audience connection over time. This required understanding not just what audiences wanted in the moment, but how their needs and preferences would change as they aged.
Third, Mayer recognized that different types of stories served different emotional functions for audiences. MGM's slate included escapist musicals, romantic dramas, adventure films, and prestige pictures because he understood that audiences had varying emotional needs that changed based on personal circumstances and broader social conditions.
Organizational Culture as Competitive Advantage
MGM's success wasn't just about individual talent or smart strategy—it was about creating an organizational culture that consistently produced excellent results. Mayer understood that in creative industries, culture isn't just about employee satisfaction—it's about creating conditions that enable superior creative output.
The studio's culture had several distinctive characteristics. First, there was an emphasis on craftsmanship and attention to detail that permeated every department. Whether it was set construction, costume design, or sound recording, MGM employees understood that their work contributed to the studio's overall reputation for quality.
Second, Mayer fostered a sense of family among his employees, creating personal relationships that went beyond typical employer-employee dynamics. This wasn't just paternalistic management—it was a recognition that creative work requires trust and emotional investment that can't be achieved through purely transactional relationships.
Third, the studio maintained high performance standards while providing the resources and support necessary to meet them. Employees knew that excellence was expected, but they also knew that they would have access to the best equipment, materials, and collaborators in the industry.
Risk Management Through Portfolio Diversification
While Mayer is often remembered for MGM's spectacular successes, his approach to risk management was equally sophisticated. He understood that the entertainment industry was inherently unpredictable, and that sustainable success required strategies for managing downside risk while maximizing upside potential.
MGM's annual slate typically included a mix of big-budget prestige pictures, medium-budget star vehicles, and lower-budget genre films. This diversification ensured that the studio could absorb the occasional expensive failure while maintaining consistent profitability. The prestige pictures generated awards recognition and industry respect, the star vehicles provided reliable box office returns, and the genre films offered high-margin opportunities for experimentation.
Mayer also diversified across different types of entertainment, including musicals, dramas, comedies, and adventure films. This genre diversification reduced the studio's exposure to changing audience tastes while allowing it to serve different market segments simultaneously.
Long-term Thinking in a Short-term Industry
Perhaps most importantly, Mayer understood that sustainable success in entertainment required long-term thinking even when industry pressures favored short-term optimization. His willingness to invest heavily in talent development, production infrastructure, and brand building created competitive advantages that lasted for decades.
This long-term orientation manifested in several ways. Mayer was willing to lose money on individual films if they served broader strategic purposes, such as establishing new stars or exploring new genres. He invested heavily in research and development, including early experiments with color film and sound recording technology.
Most importantly, he understood that the studio's reputation was its most valuable asset, and that protecting this reputation sometimes required making decisions that reduced short-term profits. This long-term perspective allowed MGM to maintain its position as the industry's most prestigious studio even as competitors focused on quick profits and cost-cutting.
Leadership Philosophy and Management Principles
Paternalistic Leadership with Performance Accountability
Mayer's leadership style was intensely personal and paternalistic, but it was also results-oriented in ways that modern executives can learn from. He believed that his role was not just to manage employees, but to develop them as both professionals and human beings. This approach created extraordinary loyalty while maintaining high performance standards.
His management philosophy was built on several key principles. First, he believed that people performed best when they felt personally valued and supported. This led him to take genuine interest in his employees' personal lives, career aspirations, and professional development needs.
Second, he understood that creative work required different management approaches than traditional business operations. Creative employees needed more autonomy and support, but they also needed clear direction and honest feedback about their performance.
Third, Mayer recognized that in creative industries, the leader's vision and taste became the organization's brand. This meant that he couldn't delegate certain decisions, particularly those related to creative direction and talent development.
Decision-Making Framework
Mayer's approach to decision-making combined intuitive understanding of audience psychology with rigorous analysis of market data. He developed a systematic framework for evaluating projects, talent, and strategic opportunities that balanced creative and commercial considerations.
For project decisions, Mayer evaluated three key factors: story quality, star power, and production feasibility. He understood that all three elements needed to be strong for a film to succeed, and he was willing to pass on projects that excelled in one or two areas but were weak in the third.
For talent decisions, he looked for a combination of natural ability, work ethic, and personal character. He understood that talent alone wasn't sufficient—successful stars needed the discipline and professionalism to maintain their careers over time.
For strategic decisions, Mayer balanced short-term financial considerations with long-term brand implications. He was willing to make investments that wouldn't pay off immediately if they strengthened the studio's competitive position over time.
Communication and Persuasion
Mayer was legendary for his ability to communicate his vision and persuade others to support it. His communication style was emotional and personal, but it was also strategic and purposeful. He understood that in creative industries, logical arguments alone weren't sufficient—people needed to feel emotionally connected to the vision.
His persuasion techniques included several key elements. First, he always connected individual contributions to larger purposes, helping people understand how their work served the studio's mission and values. Second, he used storytelling to make abstract concepts concrete and memorable. Third, he appealed to people's professional pride and personal ambitions, showing them how supporting the studio's goals would advance their own careers.
Mayer also understood the importance of managing different stakeholders with different communication styles. His approach to dealing with creative talent was different from his approach to financial partners, which was different from his approach to industry regulators. This adaptability allowed him to build coalitions and maintain support across diverse constituencies.
On Vision and Leadership
"I want to make pictures that glorify America and the American way of life. I want to tell stories that will make people proud to be Americans."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The inventory of a motion picture company is not in its real estate, not in its equipment, but in the hearts and minds of the people who work for it."
— Louis B. Mayer
"I have never made a picture that I was ashamed to have my family see. And I never will."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The only thing you have to know is how to trust your own unconscious, and that takes nerve—you have to be willing to go out on a limb and trust your instincts, even when everyone else is telling you you're wrong."
— Louis B. Mayer
On Talent and Star Development
"A star is not just someone who can act. A star is someone who can make people care about what happens to them on screen."
— Louis B. Mayer
"I don't hire actors, I create them. Anyone can learn to act, but not everyone can learn to be a star."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The difference between a good actor and a great star is that the star brings something of themselves to every role. The audience doesn't just watch the character—they watch the star being the character."
— Louis B. Mayer
"Talent without discipline is like a beautiful voice without training—it may be pleasant to hear, but it will never reach its full potential."
— Louis B. Mayer
On Business and Competition
"In this business, you're only as good as your last picture. But if you make enough good pictures, people will forgive you for the occasional failure."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The audience is never wrong. If they don't like a picture, it's not because they don't understand it—it's because we didn't make it well enough."
— Louis B. Mayer
"
Competition is good for business, but only if you're better than your competition. If you're not, then competition will destroy you."
"Quality is never an accident. It is always the result of intelligent effort, careful planning, and skillful execution."
— Louis B. Mayer
On Entertainment and Responsibility
"Movies are the most powerful medium ever created. With that power comes responsibility—responsibility to entertain, to inspire, and to elevate the human spirit."
— Louis B. Mayer
"People don't go to movies to be depressed. They go to escape, to dream, to feel better about themselves and the world around them."
— Louis B. Mayer
"Entertainment is not a luxury—it's a necessity. People need stories, they need heroes, they need to believe that good can triumph over evil."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The best pictures are the ones that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you think—sometimes all at the same time."
— Louis B. Mayer
On Success and Failure
"Success is not about making money—it's about making pictures that people will remember long after the money is spent."
— Louis B. Mayer
"Failure is not the opposite of success—it's part of success. Every failure teaches you something that brings you closer to your next success."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The biggest risk is not taking any risks. In entertainment, if you're not willing to fail, you'll never create anything truly great."
— Louis B. Mayer
"I'd rather make one great picture than ten mediocre ones. Great pictures are remembered forever—mediocre ones are forgotten before they leave the theater."
— Louis B. Mayer
On Legacy and Values
"I want to be remembered not for how much money I made, but for the joy I brought to people's lives through the pictures we created."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The movies we make today will be the dreams that children remember when they become adults. That's a responsibility I don't take lightly."
— Louis B. Mayer
"Values are not something you put on like a costume for a role—they're something you live by, on screen and off."
— Louis B. Mayer
"The greatest compliment anyone can pay me is not that I made successful pictures, but that I made pictures that made their lives a little bit better."
— Louis B. Mayer
