The Last Tycoon

These chapters provide an in-depth exploration of Monroe Stahr’s character. Stahr emerges as a dedicated and compassionate individual, evidenced by his authentic concern for an actor facing challenges and the substantial time he dedicates to assisting a film crew in refining their script. This showcases Stahr’s multifaceted character, extending beyond his managerial role to embody qualities of empathy and dedication. Moreover, the chapter breaks the fourth wall, with Cecilia directly addressing the readers, stating, “I have determined to give you a glimpse of him functioning” (46). This narrative technique not only establishes a silent connection between Cecilia and Stahr but also reinforces the significance of Stahr’s role in the unfolding Hollywood story.

These chapters also explore Stahr’s personal struggles, as he seeks to find meaning and connection in the ever-changing world of Hollywood. Stahr’s observation of Edna underscores the duality within his character, torn between the memory of his late wife Minna and the reality of the present. When Stahr first looks at Edna, he regretfully acknowledges that she is “no beauty like Minna” (90). Stahr’s obsession with finding Minna’s lookalike indicates his idealized perception of her and reveals the depth of his unresolved grief. Kathleen’s resemblance to Minna becomes a symbolic reflection of Stahr’s unfulfilled longing for his late wife. The repetition of Minna’s “face and form and smile” in Kathleen’s features highlights the haunting persistence of memory (92). Stahr’s internal dialogue with Minna’s memory reveals a profound sense of loss that continues to shape his interactions. Stahr apologetically explains to Minna that his meeting with Kathleen “was really nothing, that no one could ever be [like Minna]” (96). This introspective moment exposes Stahr’s guilt when he has previously appeared unassailable. His apology and admission of sorrow showcase a vulnerability that contrasts with his outward confidence. As the narrative unfolds, the chapters dig deeper into Stahr’s profound loneliness concealed beneath the veneer of success: “At home [Stahr] felt a curious loneliness” (96). All of Stahr’s success and wealth cannot make up for Desire, Love, and the Pain of Loss.

Stahr’s undisclosed illness also serves as a symbol of vulnerability; his illness is presented as a metaphor for the silent battles faced by individuals in the callous world of Hollywood. Nobody at the studio knows about his illness “because he was secretive” (96). This deliberate concealment of his illness suggests his reluctance to be seen as vulnerable. It also reflects the culture of secrecy and The Deception Behind Hollywood Glamor. Despite the constant scrutiny and surveillance, Stahr’s health remains overlooked, emphasizing the superficiality of relationships in the cutthroat world of filmmaking where personal well-being takes a back seat to professional success.

Stahr’s role as a studio executive is elaborately detailed in the narrative, showing that a good businessman must be a well-rounded one. His acumen and capabilities are evident as he navigates various studio matters, dealing with a troubled actor, a frustrated writer, and the antics of a gagman. Stahr’s keen observation and quick decision-making are exemplified when he notices “a hair in the picture” missed by everyone else (79). This incident illustrates Stahr’s meticulous attention to detail. Furthermore, his quick recognition of the inadequacies in a scene reflects not only his sharp eye for quality but also his commitment to maintaining high standards within the studio. Stahr’s candid critique, “It’s badly written, it’s miscast, it accomplishes nothing” (80), reflects his dedication to fostering excellence and his ability to identify weaknesses constructively. Stahr’s leadership is portrayed as a catalyst for a shared sense of purpose among his team, combining common sense, wise sensibility, theatrical ingenuity, and a commitment to the commonweal. Stahr’s decision to release a film “that’ll lose some money” for the sake of art underscores his unique perspective on the film industry (71). This decision serves as a metaphorical expression of Stahr’s profound passion for the craft and his willingness to challenge conventional industry norms. Moreover, the clash between Stahr’s artistic ideals and Brady’s profit-driven perspectives foreshadows the tension between the two in later chapters.

Lastly, these chapters present Hollywood as a risky enterprise that demands a do-or-die approach. As acknowledged by Stahr, “The net result of months of buying, planning, writing and rewriting, casting, constructing, lighting, rehearsing and shooting” may still be a failure (77). The enumeration of tasks involved in filmmaking also illustrates the exhaustive nature of the industry. The various descriptions of the Hollywood industry highlight the tension between failure and success. The phrase “fruit of brilliant hunches” suggests that success in Hollywood often emerges from moments of creative inspiration (77). In contrast, “counsels of despair, of lethargy, conspiracy and sweat” conveys the emotionally taxing process of filmmaking (77). Additionally, the attempted suicide of cameraman Pete Zavras, after Mr. Schwartz’s death by suicide, illustrates the emotional and psychological strain within the industry.