By 1918, four-fifths of the film-making capacity of the world had relocated to Hollywood. Locals disapproved, seeing their suburb of Los Angeles infected by these new vulgarians. But in the end snobbery yielded to the true American value, success. And success is the box-office gross. Hollywood knows a good film when it sees one: one that may make a star, but must make somebody's fortune. In less than a century, Hollywood has grown from a toffee-nosed village to a town as famous as New York, Rome or Paris. And physically, of course, it has changed beyond recognition: a century ago, you would walk through orange groves to the village store. Yet in a way, it is still a village — parochial, with limited horizons — just a little bit of Los Angeles. For all who live and work in it, there is one topic of conversation — films: how much they have made, who is dating whom, who's been stabbed in the back, who is 'attached' to which project. Those who have been successful often try to get away: to work there, but live somewhere else. Yet it is still the one place in the world to which almost everyone who is anyone in show-business (and plenty who aren't) eventually gravitates.