On Friday moming, March 31, the Los Angeles District Attorney's office charged Begelman with four felony crimes—one count of grand theft and th
ree counts of forgery. Bail of $
2,500 was asked. The grand-theft charge carried a penalty of one to ten years in prison, and each forgery count carried a penalty of one to fourteen years. It was arranged for
Begelman
to surrender to the Burbank police the following week and enter a plea in municipal court.
Alan and
Berte
Hirschfield flew to Los Angeles on Monday to head the Columbia Pictures d
elegation at the fiftieth annual
Academy Awards. Dan Melnick and Leo Jaffe also attended.
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
had been nominated for nine awards, including best director but notably not including best picture. No other Columbia films had received any major nominations. By contrast, Twentieth Century-Fox had garnered nearly three-dozen nominations.
Star Wars, Julia,
and
The Turning Point
each was nominated for eleven awards, including best picture. Some people wondered whether the
Begelman
scandal had hurt Columbia in the voting.
Outside the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, the Jewish Defense League demonstrated against Vanessa Redgrave's best supporting actress nomination for her performance in
Julia,
continuing a campaign which the JDL had been waging for weeks because of Redgrave's association with the cause of the Palestine Liberation Organization. When it turned out that she had won the Oscar, Redgrave ascended to the stage and said, "My dear colleagues, . . . you should be very proud that in the last few weeks you have stood firm and you have refused to be intimidated by the threats of a small bunch of Zionist hoodlums whose behavior is an insult to Jews all over the world.
..."
Dan Melnick and others in the audience booed loudly. ". .
.1
salute all of you," Redgrave continued, "for having stood firm and dealt a final blow against that period when Nixon and McCarthy launched a worldwide witch-hunt against those who tried to express with their lives and their work the truth that they believed in . . ." Redgrave sat down to more boos, mixed with applause and a reprise of the music from
Julia.
Knowing that Paddy Chayevsky was scheduled to present the screen-writing Oscars, Dan Melnick cornered him in the men's room and insisted that he reply to Redgrave's remarks. When Chayevsky took the podium more than an hour later, he began, "Before
1
get on to the writing awards, there's a little matter I'd like to tidy up. . . .I'm sick and tired of people exploiting the occasion of the Academy Awards for the propagation of their own personal political propaganda. I would like to suggest to Miss Redgrave that her winning an Academy Award is not a pivotal moment in history and docs not require a proclamation. A simple thank you would have sufficed."
Close Encounters
won only two awards—for cinematography and sound-effects editing.
Star Wars
seven, and
Julia
three.
Annie Hall
was named best picture.
David
Begelman
did not attend the ceremony, but Cliff Robertson did, having been invited, as a past winner, to participate in the opening ceremony. Asked about the Begelman case. Robertson told
Daily Variety
columnist Army Archerd: "When and if I'm called, I'll tell the truth."
Early the next morning, David Begelman surrendered for booking at the Burbank Police Headquarters, then crossed the street to the municipal court and entered pleas of not guilty to the four felony counts against him.
B.O.
Clicks. Image Nix: Scandals Rock Hollywood in Its Best Year Ever, and Jack Valenti Is the Man in the Middle
. The headline was on a
People
magazine interview with Valenti, the former aide to Lyndon Johnson and president of the Motion Picture Association of America.
"How could something like the Begelman affair happen?" "Frankly, this whole thing would have died down if Begelman had not been reinstated. . . ." "What would you have done?"
'"My advice was not sought. If it had been,
I
would
never
have reinstated
Begelman
. He committed a crime, and he has no right to be the head of a publicly traded corporation."
"In your opinion, did Cliff Robertson do right by pressing to have
Begelman
investigated?
"Robertson did what
I
or any other person in that position would have done. If there are wrongdoers, I encoura
ge and applaud their exposure. I
would stand up and cheer."
"Are bribes, payoffs, and financial improprieties rampant in Hollywood?"
"I'm not suggesting for one minute that there aren't plenty of crooks, cheats, and charlatans in Hollywood. I am saying that the vast majority are well-intentioned people of probity and integrity who care very much about their public reputations."
"Is it worse than in other businesses?"
"I don't know. Of course, it's not
like
any other business. It's really a crapshoot.
..."
"Which is more corrupt, Washington or Hollywood?"
"There are rascals, double-dealers, and scoundrels in both places, but nine out of ten people in politics and the movies are solid. I don't want to be put in the position of a public defender for Hollywood. Frankly, I don't know if somebody is going to be accused, indicted, and convicted next week. But the vast majority in the film business want to do one thing: make the best goddamned movie they can."
Over cocktails at the Beverly Wilshire Tuesday evening, Hirschfield offered Begelman's old job to Stan Kamen, the senior West Coast officer of the William Morris Agency and, along with Sam Cohn of ICM, one of the most important talent agents in the world. Kamen, with whom there had been exploratory discussions of the Columbia job through intermediaries such as Marty Ransohoff, politely declined the offer.
Hirschfield flew back to New York the next afternoon after attending a board meeting of the Motion Picture Association of America.
Joe Fischer reported to the audit committee of the Columbia board of directors on Thursday that as a result of the Begelman embezzlements Columbia's insurance carrier had increased the deductible on its fidelity bond from $5,000 to $100,000. Fischer pointed out that the fidelity bond would not cover the company at all against anything
Begelman
might do in his capacity as a producer.
The full board then convened and approved several motion picture and television transactions, including
California Suite
at a revised budget of $9.4 million; a fee of $2 million to Dustin Hoffman for
Kramer vs. Kramer,
which wa
s scheduled to begin filming in
September; Marty Ransohoff's
Nightwing
at a revised budget of $6.6 million; and a new contract for TV producer David Gerber covering
Police Story, Police Woman,
and other shows.
It was reported that Columbia Pictures probably would make "significant profits" from its 50 percent interest in
Dancin',
the new Bob Fosse musical review which had just opened to critical acclaim and a healthy box office on Broadway. There were mutterings of approval from the board but not congratulations for
Hirschfield
, who had championed the investment in
Dancin'
against strong resistance from the directors several months earlier. It had become bad form to admit that Alan Hirschfield might have sound artistic judgment.
Although Hirschfield and Herbert Allen had hardly spoken since early March, Herbert had been thinking a lot about Hirschfield and the overall management of the corporation. He was as angry at Hirschfield as ever—for all the same reasons. He would never forgive him for what he considered Alan's duplicity in the Jimmy Goldsmith episode. And as the spring wore on, Herbert's list of grievances lengthened. He believed that Alan's seeming inability to attract a replacement for David Begelman demonstrated one of two things: Either Alan's search for a new studio head was not genuine because Alan secretly wanted to run the studio himself, or the search was inept and evinced a general lack of ability as an executive. (Herbert ignored the argument that Alan's efforts were being undermined by the board's failure to certify its support for him with a new long-term contract.) Herbert also was frustrated by what he felt was a failure by Alan to keep another commitment he had made—to strengthen the management at the top of the corporation by appointing a chief operating officer, someone whose principal function would be the tightening and monitoring of
administrative
controls of the corporation, which Herbert felt were loose.
Pursuing the second goal in early April, Herbert asked Hirschfield to interview a man who had recently contacted Herbert in search of a job—a former RCA and NBC executive named Robert Stone. Balding, fifty-six years old, and stiff in his demeanor. Stone had been unemployed since early the previous year when he left abruptly as head of the Hertz Corporation, an RCA subsidiary, after a tiff with RCA Chairman Edgar Griffiths. It turned out that Alan
Hirschfield
already had met Stone. An executive recruiter had introduced them not long after Stone had left Hertz, and
Hirschfield
had concluded then that
Stone was not suitable for Columbia Pictures Industries. Although it was clear that Stone had talent—Hertz's profits had quadrupled in his four and a half years at the helm—he had a reputati
on as an abrupt, exacting manager-by-fear-and-e
dict, a style which Hirschfield felt was inappropriate in a company like Columbia whose principal businesses depended upon careful nurturing of a creative environment. While at Hertz. Stone had fired a sizable number of vice presidents and even threatened the jobs of secretaries for overusing
copying machines. "Captain Quee
g" they called him. Hirschfield's view of Stone had not changed since their interview, but at Herbert's insistence, Alan spoke with Stone again on Friday morning. April 7. Hirschfield did not take the opportunity to reject Stone flatly. Instead he said that Columbia would not be hiring a chief operating officer until it had finished staffing the studio. Perhaps they could talk again then.
Unfortunately for Hirschfield. he failed to sense that Robert Stone over the next three months gradually would become an inflammatory symbol of
Hirschfield
's "intransigence" and the focus of bitter new animosity in the struggle with Herbert Allen for control of the corporation.
FIFTY-ONE
In the days following his late-night phone conversation with Lou Phillips. Joe Fischer groped for a prudent approach to the possible financial irregularity at Columbia's televis
ion commercials company in Burba
nk.
Jim Johnson urged Fischer to take quick action. Not reticent like Phillips, Johnson told Fischer that the "irregularity" almost certainly amounted to a sizable embezzlement and that the likely culprit was Audr
ey Lisner,
implausible as that might have seemed in view of her flawless employment record. Johnson wanted an immediate investigation and was prepared to launch it himself. Fischer, however, had to consider the broader ramifications of the problem. If an embezzlement was confirmed, it inevitably would ignite another ugly controversy within the high command of Columbia Pictures Industries. Thus, it was imperative that the Screen Gems matter be handled delicately. It was the
handling
that was crucial. If the Begelman affair had been
handled
differently in the beginning, Fischer had always felt, it might not have gotten out of control.
Fischer decided not to tell Hirschfield or anyone else about the Screen Gems problem just yet. He decided that the least disruptive course was to keep the problem within the financial-control systems of the company to the extent possible.
Let it be handled by the systems that were designed to handle such things. It was the "system," after al
l, in the person of Audrey Lisne
r's assistant. Kirk Borcherding, that brought the matter to light, not some zealous outsider like Cliff Robertson. It seemed to Fischer that if the system already in place was permitted to deal with Lisner, it could prove just as effective as, perhaps more effective than, the Burbank police or Price Waterhouse. And the political damage to Hirschfield (and to Fischer himself) might have a better chance of being contained.
An important part of the control system within Columbia Pictures, as in most big companies, was its department of internal audit, a s
ort of interior Price Waterhouse
which specialized in policing the corporation's financial control systems, identifying abuses, and thereby filling whatever enforcement gap might exist between the annual audit by the outside accountants and the day-to-day self-policing of the system itself. Columbia's director of internal audit was a young CPA whom Fischer had hire
d away from Price Waterhouse, Il
ana Cytto. An intense, dark-haired woman in her early thirties, Cytto had come to the United States from Israel, having served for a time in the Israeli Army. Because of the unique manner in which the Begelman embezzlements had surfaced, she had not participated in that investigation.