At any rate, a year later I found myself as an 18-dollar-a-week, backlot laborer. With the first two pictures I produced, I learned something of the truth of what that teacher had told me.
In Champion, the hero was a heel, and Home of The Brave treated the delicate problem of a Negro soldier in an experience with his fellow men. I had put, I hoped, faith, integrity, and sincerity into these pictures and turned deaf to the veteran showmen who were trying to convince me that I was committing professional suicide. But the public responded to what the pictures had to say and the way it was said. They supported these pictures lavishly because, and I have always been firm in this belief, the level of public intelligence and taste is much higher than has been credited.