The 20s and 30s in Hollywood. According to what Marc Norman tells in What Happens Next, that was the life. Money flowed, the recession was only a bedtime story, and most writers were New York-based authors who despised the film industry and wrote their scripts quickly and effortlessly.
Here’s what Ben Hecht wrote about the moguls:
Good gentlemen who overpay
Me fifty times for every fart,
Who hand me statues when I bray
And hail my whinnying as Art —
I pick your pockets every day
But how you bastards break my heart
Knee-deep in butlers, smothered half
In horse-shit splendors, soft and fat
And worshipping the Golden Calf
I Mutter trough my new plush hat
“Why did you steal my pilgrim’s Staff?
Why do you make me write like that?”