The origins of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and the missing name
A new biography explores the partnership that shaped Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and defined classic Hollywood.
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| Film producer Irving Thalberg (left) shakes hands with MGM studio executive Louis B. Mayer, with actress Norma Shearer standing between them, in Hollywood, California, circa 1932. © Hulton Archive/Getty Images |
By Hayu Andini and Novanka Laras
Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg: The Whole Equation (Jewish Lives), by Kenneth Turan
Hollywood’s most prestigious studio of the golden age was founded on April 17, 1924, as Metro-Goldwyn Productions. Yet the name was incomplete. It took until January 1926 for Louis B. Mayer’s influence to be officially recognized, giving birth to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, or MGM, the studio that would dominate classic Hollywood.
One key figure, however, remained largely in the shadows: Irving G. Thalberg. At just 24 years old, Thalberg became MGM’s second vice president and head of production. He had already earned a reputation as a cinematic “genius,” known for his exceptional instincts in selecting scripts, assembling casts, and crafting movies that resonated with audiences. While Mayer focused on the financial side of the business, Thalberg shaped the studio’s artistic vision, making MGM synonymous with Hollywood’s most prestigious productions.
Their partnership, as chronicled in Kenneth Turan’s Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg: The Whole Equation, was a remarkable collaboration that defined Hollywood’s golden age. Over the course of a decade, they supervised hundreds of films, transforming MGM into the most successful and glamorous studio of its time.
Shaping Hollywood’s greatest era
During the Thalberg-Mayer years, MGM navigated one of the most significant transitions in film history: the move from silent films to sound. Their leadership resulted in an unprecedented string of hits, with the studio producing some of the most acclaimed films of the era.
One of Thalberg’s first major decisions at MGM was to drastically cut Erich von Stroheim’s Greed (1924), a sprawling nine-hour epic, down to just over two hours. While this move earned him a reputation for being ruthless with directors, it also reinforced MGM’s identity as a producer-driven studio. This approach proved crucial when the studio tackled the 1925 silent epic Ben-Hur, a troubled production that required Mayer and Thalberg’s intervention to turn it into a box-office sensation.
Other MGM successes followed, including King Vidor’s silent classic The Crowd (1928), the lavish ensemble drama Grand Hotel (1932), and franchise-launching hits like Tarzan the Ape Man (1932) and The Thin Man (1934). These films cemented MGM’s reputation as the premier studio of Hollywood’s golden age.
A complex relationship of power and ambition
Turan’s biography, part of Yale University Press’s Jewish Lives series, delves into the contrasting backgrounds and ambitions of Mayer and Thalberg. Mayer, an immigrant from Eastern Europe and the son of a junk dealer, crafted his identity as an all-American success story, even choosing to celebrate his birthday on July 4. He was fiercely patriotic and a staunch Republican, embodying the conservative power structure of Hollywood.
Thalberg, by contrast, was born into a middle-class German-Jewish family in Brooklyn. He possessed charm, intelligence, and a sharp cinematic eye, earning him the nickname “Boy Wonder.” His ability to anticipate audience preferences made him invaluable, but his fragile health—due to a childhood bout of rheumatic fever—added a sense of urgency to his meteoric rise.
Mayer viewed Thalberg as both a son and a rival. Their relationship was marked by admiration and tension, with Thalberg constantly pushing for higher pay and greater creative freedom, while Mayer fought to maintain control over the studio. As Turan notes, “If Thalberg could never get enough money, Mayer could never get enough respect.”
The untimely end of Hollywood’s Boy Wonder
Despite his immense influence, Thalberg’s career was cut short. His frail health had always been a concern, and in 1936, at just 37 years old, he died of pneumonia. At the time of his death, he was already clashing with Mayer and contemplating leaving MGM to start his own studio.
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| An overhead view of a street scene set for director Edwin L. Marin's film Man of the People at MGM Studios in California. © Hulton Archive/Getty Images |
Thalberg’s passing left a lasting void at MGM. Mayer ruled the studio alone for two more decades, expanding his influence beyond Hollywood, yet he never fully escaped the shadow of his former partner. The romanticized image of Thalberg—the brilliant young executive with an uncanny ability to craft hit films—remained a fixture in Hollywood lore.
MGM’s enduring legacy and the lessons for today’s industry
Turan’s book not only captures the lives of Mayer and Thalberg but also reflects on the state of modern filmmaking. MGM was built on a belief in cinema’s artistic and commercial potential, a philosophy shared by both men despite their differences.
Today, with Hollywood dominated by corporate franchises, sequels, and intellectual property-driven blockbusters, Turan questions whether the industry still values the kind of leadership Mayer and Thalberg provided. Their era was defined by a careful balance of creative vision and business acumen, something that has become increasingly rare in the age of studio conglomerates.
While MGM’s golden age may be a thing of the past, the impact of Mayer and Thalberg’s partnership remains. Their ability to shape the industry, cultivate stars, and define an era of cinematic excellence continues to serve as a model for filmmakers and executives alike.
For anyone interested in Hollywood’s history, Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg: The Whole Equation offers an insightful and compelling account of two men who built an empire—and shaped the movies that continue to define classic cinema.
