TWENTY-EIGHT
As Alan and
Berte
Hirschfield and their children flew west on Saturday afternoon for an annual Thanksgiving reunion with West Coast relatives, Judd Marmor, Begelman's psychiatrist, flew east for a Sunday rendezvous in Manhattan with Irwin Kramer and Peter Gruenberger.
Many people were skeptical about David Begelman's psychotherapy. Wags had labeled it the "six-week Beverly Hills miracle cure," in part because Matty Rosenhaus, with fustian solemnity, had been quick to proclaim David "cured" and his treatment a "miracle." Alan Hirschfield considered it a "joke." Anyone familiar with psychotherapy knew that serious emotional problems generally could not be "cured" in so short a time.
As much as they yearned to. however, the skeptics could not ignore
Begelman
's therapy. He had, after all, sought out a renowned doctor and had placed emotional illness at the center of his defense. Judd Marmor had his detractors in the Los Angeles psychoanalytic community, as any psychiatrist docs, but since no one had insisted that
Begelman
get a second opinion, Marmor's diagnosis was the only professional opinion that counted. David had waived the doctor-patient privilege of confidentiality and urged that Marmor be questioned directly and independently. Peter Gruenberger had spoken informally with Marmor in his
Wilshire
Boulevard office several days earlier, but the meeting on Sunday morning at Irwin Kramer's apartment on Park Avenue was to be the official interrogation, wherein Marmor presumably would confirm everything that Begelman himself had told the board on Wednesday about his mental problems and treatment.
Judd Marmor. a slight, bald man of sixty-seven, with a deep tan, arrived at the Kramer apartment promp
tly at 10:30, only to find that
he had been preempted temporarily by televised history-in-the-making. The Kramer family and the Columbia contingent were gathered around a television set in the den watching Egyptian President Sadat address the Israeli parliament in Jerusalem. It was a momentous day in the history of Egyptian-Israeli relations, and millions of people in America and abroad were riveted to the live television coverage that morning. Judd Marmor's time was limited, however, so after about half an hour, he and the Columbia group adjourned to the library. In additio
n to Irwin Kramer and Peter Gruenberge
r, the m
eeting was attended by Robert Werbe
l, the Allen & Company lawyer, and Nancy Barton, the Weil, Gotshal lawyer who had discovered the Martin Ritt check.
Marmor was asked to give a precis of David
Begelman
's condition and treatment.
"David's problem fundamentally is a neurotic disorder rather than a flaw of character," the doctor began. "That means that he can function at a high level professionally and personally, but at the same time occasionally display neurotic symptoms. Although the roots of his neurosis go quite deep, the neurosis itself constitutes a subconscious feeling of self-loathing, low self-esteem, a feeling of lack of worth, which makes it difficult for him to accommodate great success and acclaim. This conflict sets off a self-destructive mechanism, which manifests itself in the acts he committed. They in turn represent a need to be caught and punished.
"All of this is different from a psychopath, who has no guilt and, if caught, only regrets being caught. David knew he was doing something wrong. He knew he was guilty then and thereafter. As a result, he now feels enormous guilt and self-condemnation and is willing and anxious to pay any price to make up to the people whom he has hurt."
' Peter Gruenberge
r began to question Marmor:
"As you may know. David swore to us in September after we found two defalcations that there were no more. We found a third. He swore to us he had blocked that and was sure there were no more beyond the third. A month later we found another forged check, the Martin Ritt check. He says he blocked that. too. Is all of this plausible?"
"Yes, absolutely. I believe he totally repressed the Ritt episode. It is possible for an event itself to be repressed, but for the guilt over having committed the event to be manifest."
"How can we be sure that there are no other events?"
"I told him at the outset that he had to tell me everything, and I believe he has. I've pressed him very hard."
"How can we be sure that he acted alone?"
"I believe it to be absolutely true that nobody helped him commit any of these acts. This was a secret neurosis."
"Is there any possibility that he needed this money because he was gambling?"
"No."
"Is it possible that he was blackmailed?" "I don't think so."
"Then what was the conscious motivation?"
"He had to maintain a dignified front, and while one ordinarily would think of blackmail or gambling, the simplest explanation—so simple that one tends to reject it—is that this was a man living beyond his means and unable to admit it. But that's neurotic, not realistic, behavior."
"Could you describe the type of treatment?"
"It is intensive psychoanalytically oriented psychotherapy. Th
ere are no drugs or hypnosis. We
meet three times a week and may do so for several years, although we may winnow down after a while to twice a week. I'm getting a high level of sincerity and cooperation from David. The prognosis for correction of the condition is excellent. He has a definite capacity for correctability. I expect the changes to be fundamental and not veneer. I feel confident in saying that he won't do these things again, not just because of what I have done in treating him, but also because the bubble has burst. I think the prospect of recurrence is absolutely minimal, and I think David will try hard to vindicate himself."
"How well will he be able to function with his peers, with subordinates, and with outsiders?"
"I think he has the capacity to adapt and I certainly think that he will maintain dignity and poise. He has no resentment toward the investigation. He understands the necessity for it. In fact, he feels he caused it to happen. He says 'I want to pay any bill to clear my slate.' "
"Do you feel it is necessary to impose any special controls or protections on or around David to guard against a recurrence?"
"If you do that, it would be a good idea to make it a company rule for everybody."
After about two hours in the Kramer apartment, Judd Marmor left and flew back to Los Angeles.
Perhaps the most enthusiastic movie review in the history of movies appeared in Sunday's
Los Angeles Times
—an article about
Close Encounters
by science-fiction author Ray Bradbury.
Close Encounters
calls. We feel ourselves being born, truly for the first time. . . .
Close Encounters
is, in all probability, the most important film of our time. . . . For this is a religious film, in all the great good senses, the right senses, of that much-battered word. . . . Spielberg has made a film that can open in New Delhi, Tokyo, Berlin. Moscow, Johannesburg, Paris, London. New York and Rio de Janeiro on the same day to mobs and throngs and crowds that will never stop coming because for the first time someone has treated all of us as if we really did belong to one race.
...
I
dare to predict that in every way, aesthetically or commercially, it will be the most successful film ever produced, released, or seen. It will be the first film in history to gross $1 billion, all by itself. . . . Every priest, minister, rabbi in the world should preach this film, show this film to their congregations. Every Moslem, every Buddhist—Zen or otherwise—in the world can sit down at this moveable feast and leave well fed. That's how big this film is. That's why it will be around the rest of our lives making us want to live more fully, packing us with its hope and energy. . . .
Ray Stark staged the premier of his new film
The Goodbye Girl
in Manhattan that Sunday evening. Among the guests at the party following the movie were Herbert Allen
, the Leo Jaffes,
and Cliff Robertson and Dina Merrill. Robertson had recently completed his own film in London and returne
d to New York. Although Cliff ha
d ignored Columbia Pictures' offer, issued through his lawyer, to brief him privately on the
Begelman
investigation, he and Leo Jaffe. who had known Cliff for many years, found a privat
e spot amidst the hubbub of the
party.
"I'm sorry for whatever grief this matter has
caused Columbia," Cliff said. "I
know you understand that 1 had to do what I did, being faced with a possible tax investigation."
"Of course." Leo replied, "and
I
want you to know that we
have the situation fully under control. We've had the most complete investigation imaginable, and we appreciate your discretion in the matter."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, it's closed. I was only concerned about the tax issue, and that's been clarified."
For the third time in seven weeks, Alan
Hirschfield
settled into Bungalow 8 of the Beverly Hills Hotel—this time for a two-week stay that would include the traditional California Thanksgiving reunion of the Hirschfield family. The occasion was spearheaded by
Berte
and her sister, Susan Foge
lson, whose husband, Andrew, was in charge of advertising at Warner Bros. (Earlier he had a similar post at Columbia.) Alan's parents would come from their winter home in Palm Springs. Berte and Susan's brother would come down from Seattle.
As his family began a week of recreation, Alan stepped back into the Begelman fray like a battlefield commander returning to a war after a weekend pass. He found the Columbia studio so preoccupied with the controversy that the conduct of business was being impeded. Staff members spent much of each day speculating among themselves: Will David be reinstated? What did the investigation find? How many checks did he forge? How can he be reinstated if he stole money? Is he in hock to the Mafia? Will he be prosecuted? Will he go to jail? Is he emotionally disturbed?
One of the few people who had resolved not to be engulfed by the affair was Columbia's newest production vice president. Sherry Lansing, whose first day on the job was Monday. November 21. Lured by (he prospect of increased responsibility. Lansing had moved to Columbia from MGM. She had been urged to take the job by a number of people, including Columbia's production chief Dan Melnick. who had come from MGM several months earlier.
Melnick
had been Lansing's mentor at MGM. and before that at David Susskind's company. Talent Associates. Another friend who had encouraged her to come to Columbia was Allen Adler. the corporation's young senior vice president. Over a drink at the Polo Lounge several weeks earlier, just before the
Begelman
problem arose. Adle
r had told Lansing. "Columbia is the hottest company in town. We've got great people in place at the studio and in New York. Sherry, it's almost Camelot."
"Camelot. indeed." Lansing mused at Columbia on Monday. November 21. The lances and maces were certainly there, and the jealousy and intrigue. But it was obvious that she would have to wait a while for the shining moments and wisps of glory. Trying to ignore the crossfire in the Begelman fight, she concentrated that day on script conferences with director James Bridges and producer Michael Douglas, who were developing a picture tentatively entitled
The China Syndrome.
At five Monday afternoon, Hirschfield drove to Mickey Rudin's office on Wilshire Boulevard. He and Rudin had spoken frequently by phone but had not seen each oth
er since the night of the Brande
is University dinner at the Waldorf in September when Rudin had whispered his confirmation of the Peter
Choate
embezzlement.
Although he had never used Rudin for routine corporate legal work—that was not Rudin's specialty—Hirschfield over the years had sought Rudin's counsel in solving sensitive, ambiguous problems that occasionally confront every corporate chief executive but for which there is no pat legal solution—problems that demand wisdom and judgment, as well as a knowledge of the law.
Alan brought Mickey up to date: While the Columbia directors ostensibly had promised to support his decision not to reinstate Begelman, they strongly favored reinstatement and were applying enormous pressure to try to force
Hirschfield
to reverse his decision. They even were threatening to "blackmail" him by making an issue out of his wife's previous employment, twisting something which had been entirely legitimate into something corrupt. The inescapable inference was that if Alan did not yield on
Begelman
, the "corrupt" version of
Berte
's employment record might wind up in the newspapers. Once the lie was public, the truth might never catch up, and the
Hirschfield
s might be tainted unjustly for life.
Alan was committed to announce his final decision on
Begelman
to the board the next day. Did he have any options left? Could anything be done to avoid what promised to be an extremely ugly and volatile confrontation?