Spencer Tracy_ A Biography - James C. Curtis [238]
Tracy’s relationship with Mayer had always been cordial but distant, and he was anxious to keep it that way. He never allowed his judgment to be superseded by Mayer, and Eddie Mannix once told him that Mayer didn’t like him because he knew that Tracy was “onto him.” Any dealings he had with the studio, he once said, were through Mannix or Benny Thau, the soft-spoken Austrian who handled contractual matters, or very occasionally through Nicholas Schenck, Mayer’s boss, who made the big decisions regarding the talent on the lot. Tracy’s deal permitted him six consecutive weeks of vacation in the first, third, fifth, and seventh years of the agreement, and eight consecutive weeks in the second, fourth, and sixth. But it never quite worked out that way, and so far in the current year he had been permitted just four consecutive weeks.
The studio, for its part, was unwilling to sacrifice any measure of flexibility without building incentives into the deal that would serve to keep Tracy sober and available whenever he was supposed to be working. On January 9, 1940, Tracy met with Thau, who agreed to three consecutive months of vacation if he would do Edison, the Man, and The Yearling first. That plan lasted only long enough to get him on board for another picture with Clark Gable, and soon he found himself committed to three in a row: Edison, Boom Town, and The Yearling. On February 21 Thau and Mannix agreed to four weeks off between Edison and Boom Town, and as much as four weeks off between Boom Town and The Yearling (which would be another location shoot, tougher to accommodate). After The Yearling, Tracy was to have four consecutive months with pay. Through Leo Morrison, Thau offered a $25,000 bonus, returnable only were Tracy unable (or unwilling) to appear in Boom Town. Further, should he “take sick” after Boom Town and not do The Yearling, he would get only three months’ vacation, not the four he would otherwise have.
Comfortable enough with the accommodation and girded for the work ahead, Tracy began Edison, the Man on January 15. With the concurrence of director Clarence Brown, he chose to play Edison as the beneficiary of divine guidance, a man doing God’s work for the benefit of mankind. “He was a very prayerful guy, you know, in his own way,” journalist Adela Rogers St. Johns pointed out. “I don’t think it was a church way particularly, but he said to me—I’m remembering the wonderful little talks we had when we were both working at Metro—‘You know, God showed Edison how to light up cities.’ He got very excited about the people he was playing and the characters he did.”
Edison’s son asked that his father not be made to seem “too perfect” in the picture—cigars, he noted, had been substituted for chewing tobacco—and he suggested some leavening traits for the character, a certain tactlessness and, at times, downright rudeness that Tracy was able to incorporate into his performance. Everyone, from Henry Ford on down, commented on Tracy’s striking resemblance to the old man. For his part, Tracy found the picture a joy to make, and he was uncommonly accessible when journalists visited the set. One day, Gladys Hall pulled a “quickie” questionnaire on him, testing his patience:
What was the first job at which you earned money? And what did you buy with it?
“Selling newspapers in Milwaukee. A ham sandwich.”
What was the outstanding incident of your childhood?
“When I tipped the ice box over on my brother.”
When do you want to retire from the screen? And what would you do then? That is, do you have any special plans for the future?
“Tonight. That answers the first half of your question. I have no special plans for the future. I only want to sleep and eat, eat and sleep. That answers the second half.”
Have you any special fears?
“Yes. I’m afraid of Garbo. Put that down.