TWENTY-NINE
With the national press still silent on the
Begelman
affair.
Variety's
Art Murphy published an article the day before Thanksgiving:
L
'
AFFAIRE BEGELMAN: IT COULD BE A NO-WlN SITUATION FOR COLUMUIA.
. . .
Within the filmmaking community, Begelman is consid
ered a crucial element in Columbia's financial recovery via the film program he shaped over four years. Within the financial community, where Begelman's departure
might be treated as one-of-those
-things, the same people will shortly begin wondering about the effects of a production management change: Will there be a production lull? Wall Street doesn't like either surprises or uncertainties.
On the other hand, if a consensus evolves in favor of Begelman's reinstatement, he'll return in triumph from exile, leading both Hollywood and Wall Street to begin wondering what all the ruckus was about in the first place. This, too, is not the most favorable reflection on parent company management since (rightly or wrongly) one assumes that a company does not blow the public whistle on a key executive without being reasonably assured of no later embarrassment.
A real dilemma, this one.
Still aglow from the events of the previous day, Alan Hirschfield took his family on the Universal tour that Wednesday morning and then to the commissary for lunch. While
Berte
and the children were finishing their meal, Alan stepped outside to a coin booth and called the Columbia studio for messages. There was only one: "Joe Fischer in New York needs to speak with you urgently." He dialed Fischer from the booth.
"We have two problems," Fischer said. "One, we had to cancel the press release. Two, Irwin Kramer is still up in arms about the Berte
Hirschfield
-Ed Wolf thing and is demanding a full investigation."
"I can't believe any of this!"
Hirschfield
exclaimed.
"Well, I'm afraid it's true. First, you should know that all hell broke loose at the board meeting yesterday after you hung up. I've never seen Matty, or Herbert, or Irwin so crazy. They were climbing the fucking walls."
"What did they say?"
"Nothing specific. It wasn't what they said, it was the way they said it. They're just outraged at your decision."
"Well, they promised to support it. What choice do they have?"
"None, I guess. But it's going to take a long time for them to cool down. They're really on the warpath."
"What's the problem with the press release?"
"Begelman vehemently objected to the way it was worded. It said he wasn't coming back to the company but it said nothing about what he'll be doing as an alternative. He claims the details of his new produ
ction deal should be included. I
didn't know who had agreed to what, so 1 recalled the release. It had already been sent out, but I got it back. David said he'd talk to you about it when he gets to LA. He's going back this weekend."
"That release should go out today. It's a major piece of news that should be disclosed."
"Todd and Victor feel it can wait till Monday, since we're going into a long weekend."
"What about the Ed Wolf thing?"
"Irwin wants all the details. He says the board never got a complete picture and he's determined to examine it from top to bottom."
"I won't stand for this! That matter is as clean as a hound's tooth and they know it! It's none of their fucking business!"
"I don't know that you'll have much choice. They're really steamed."
"We'll see about that."
"Nothing much can happen now until next week in any event. Happy Thanksgiving." "Yeah, sure."
Alan returned to the commissary and told Berte the news.
"This is the latest form of death by torture," he said. "One day you're on the hook, then you're off, then the next day you're back on."
"I still can't see how they can make anything out of my job," Berte said. "There's nothing there to make anything out of."
"They'll find something," Alan replied, "even if they have to twist it or create it out of whole cloth."
"I can't believe this is happening to us, to you, or to me," Berte said.
"I can't either, but it is, and it looks like it'll get worse before it gets better."
Alan went to the studio and
Berte
and the children returned to the hotel.
How naive we all were,
Berte
felt, to have celebrated last night.
Alan
Hirschfield
's heart wasn't in Thanksgiving. There was the obligatory watching of the football game on television with the children at the hotel in the morning, the obligatory touch-football game on the Fogelsons' lawn in Hidden Hills in the afternoon, the obligatory carving of the turkey, the obligatory toasts, the obligatory socializing with relatives he had not seen for months. But even though he tried to put up a jovial front, it was evident to everyone that Alan was preoccupied. He talked on the telephone from the Fogelsons' more than one normally would during a Thanksgiving gathering. He held whispered conferences with his father, the only person other than
Berte
who was fully informed on the latest developments at Columbia. He tried, with difficulty, to explain to his children why "you and Mr. Allen are mad at each other."
Norman Hirschfield deeply resented the way the board, and Herbert Allen in particular, were treating his son, and hoped that Charlie Allen eventually would step into the fray and restrain his nephew as well as his son-in-law, Irwin Kramer. Norman was counting on it.
"Thanksgiving Day table talk yesterday in Hollywood," wrote Art Murphy in Friday's
Daily Variety,
"was focused on the widespread report that David
Begelman
's return to full-time status at Columbia Pictures Indu
stries has been nixed by CPI Pre
z Alan Hirschfield, whose prez-chief exec officer management prerogatives include s
pecific okay of key company exe
x. As a result, some sort of indie production deal for Begelman is now said to be in the offing."
Jim Johnson, the vice president for administration, found Hirschfield alone in the visiting-executives' suite late Friday morning.
"Alan, I know you and Joe have taken a lot of shit for the way Phillips and I let some of David's dealings slip past us. I just wanted you to know that if it would be any easier if I left the company, I'd be wi
lling to go. I don't want to see
you suffer for something that I fucked up on."
"Don't be ridiculous, Jim. Nobody's leaving the company. Nobody except David. What happened to you could have happened to anybody. There's nothing wrong with our controls.
Begelman
just circumvented them."
"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. I've lost a lot of sleep over this."
"I know what you mean. We
all have. But with a little luck, it'll all be behind us soon."
"I gather David definitely isn't coming back. You hear all sorts of things around this fuckin' place."
"It's confidential until we get out a press release, but you can rest assured that there is no fucking way that David Begelman is coming back to this company."
The
Hirschfield
s spent much of Saturday at David Geffen's home in Malibu. The low two-story house, one of four residences owned by Geffen on both coasts, was separated from the Pacific Coast Highway by a walled garden and from the ocean by thirty yards of sand. The glare from the sea and sky was permitted full access to the house and blurred the subtle features of the
art on the walls—Stella, Hockne
y, Johns. Santa Ana winds that weekend had swept most of the smog and mist out to sea and warmed the air to the low eighties. It was a day for sun, swimsuits, the Jacuzzi, the surf, chilled wine, a leisurely buffet lunch and, to no one's surprise, extensive talk of the David
Begelman
crisis.
"I'm such a babe in the woods,"
Hirschfield
whined, readily admitting that he had been wrong to belittle Geffen's warnings about the Hollywood juggernaut that had arisen in support of
Begelman
. Although Hirschfield's direct and immediate struggle was with the Columbia board of directors in New York, he now knew that the board's thinking reflected in large part the thinking of Ray Stark and others in Hollywood. Both parts of the pro-Begelman rationale— one, that Begelman was a filmmaking genius with forgivable problems and irreplaceable skills, and two, that
Hirschfield
was a power-hungry megalomaniac without the talent to succeed as the mogul he wanted to become if he could banish
Begelman
—had been nurtured and refined not in New York but in Hollywood.
Although Wall Street and the corporate boardrooms of New York were proficient generators and users of rumor, they were novices compared to Hollywood. The Columbia board on its own was incapable of concocting the elaborate fictions that had become an important part of
Begelman
's defense. It needed the help of a community where elaborate fiction was a way of life—a community which successfully had imposed fantasy upon reality and melded lies with truth for so long that it no longer had any interest in distinguishing between the two. and had devised an arsenal of sophisticated defenses against any outsider who suggested that it should.
"It's as if Watergate never happened out here,"
Berte
Hirschfield
was saying to David Geffen over the roar of the Pacific. "It's as if this town were an island that doesn't have to live by the rules
of civilized society. I just ca
n't accept that David Begelman doesn't have to conform to the rules, and that Alan
Hirschfield
can't impose those rules without being beaten up like this."
"It isn't an island, but it is a very seductive community which changes the perceptions of many people who live here,"
Geffen
replied.
"Nobody is seduced who doesn't want to be seduced, who doesn't aspire to be seduced,"
Berte
insisted. "I refuse to accept the idea that if Alan and I were to move out here we couldn't live our lives, and that Alan couldn't function successfully in business, without being seduced and having our perceptions changed."
It was a conversation David Geffen and Berte Hirschfield had
had before. Geffe
n was sympathetic to the Hirschfields' anguish but could do little except reiterate both his support for Alan's position and his warning that Alan had enraged Ray Stark, who could be a dangerous enemy.
The conversation was interrupted by a succession of visitors from the beach. Malibu on weekends is very informal and very social and everybody strolls up and down the beach and drops in on everyone else. Freddie Fields stopped by. Then Barry Dillcr and Diane von Furstenberg. Then Jack Nicholson and Warren Beatty. Then Polly Bergen, who used to be married to Freddie Fields, and whom Alan
Hirschfield
had always found very attractive. As
Polly Bergen was approaching Geffe
n's deck, Hirschfield tripped on the edge of the Jacuzzi and wrenched his left big toe.
Although the visitors were eager for the latest
Begelman
gossip, they were polite enough not to ask pointed questions, and instead exchanged generalities with
Hirschfield
. "We think we're almost through it," he said. "The result will be satisfactory for everybody, and we'll go on about our business."
The pain in his toe increased through the afternoon, thro
ugh dinner that evening at Chasen's with the Foge
lsons, and through the night. He had the toe X-rayed on Sunday and found that it was broken. A doctor bandaged it and gave Alan a cane.
Berte
and the children returned to New York on Sunday, and Alan began his week's business that very afternoon with the most sensitive meeting of all, a session with David
Begelman
and Joe Fischer to discuss
Begelman
's new arrangements with Columbia Pictures
as a producer and consultant. Begelma
n, who had flown back Saturday from a Thanksgiving holiday in New York, arrived at Bungalow
8
at four o'clock, and Fischer, who had come out Sunday, joined them an hour later.
Hirschfield dreaded the meeting. He hated giving people bad news or dealing with people who had just received bad news for which he was responsible. On Tuesday afternoon in New York, after perhaps the angriest board meeting in the modem history of Columbia Pictures, Herbert Allen and Matty Rosenhaus had walked to the Columbia apartment and told
Begelman
that Hirschfield did not want to take him back into the company.
Hirschfield
was sure that Roscnhaus and Allen had made clear to
Begelman
that the majority of the board favored his reinstatement, and that although they had felt compelled to back Hirschfield as the chief executive officer, they felt deep sympathy for
Begelman
and anger at Hirschfield, and were prepared to protect
Begelman
financially. The next day it had turned out that
Begelman
still wielded enough power in the corporation to block a press release announcing Hirschfield's decision. It had also turned out that the board was still so angry at Hirschfield that it was proceeding with a plan to investigate his wife's entirely proper employment record.