"Look, no one knows I'm here, I haven't been sent by anyone," Lufkin began. "But
1
wanted to discuss your situation with the board, particularly Herbert.
I
believe time is running out and that if you don't take some quick action, it's my best opinion that you will be out of the company. The situation is close to being out of hand, and you're the only person who can cure it."
"I'm shocked," Hirschfield replied. "What's going on?"
"The board is very upset, specifically Herbert, Matty, and Irwin, and I believe they're prepared to get rid of you."
"How much time do I have?"
"Something needs to be done in the next twenty-four hours or it's my best guess—I'm almost sure—that you'll be out."
"That's somewhat awkward, in that I'm scheduled to go to Los Angeles over the weekend for the yearly budget reviews, and the following week I have all our other divisional budget reviews in New York."
"You may have five or six days, but that's it. What needs to be
*Hirschfield off
ered no
evidence
to
support his
suggestion tit
possible
conflict
s of
interest
in Kramer
's business relationships
and did not
press the issue.
Kramer
denied any conflic
ts.
done is for you to meet with Herbert, tell him it's been a difficult period for everyone, but that you're prepared to work with him to make the company succeed and get all the crap behind us. And the key to it is for you to take Bob Stone as chief operating officer if that's what Herbert wants—do that as a gesture to Herbert."
Hirschfield, surprised to hear that Robert Stone was still available in light of the Dallas job offer, explained to Lufkin his reasons for opposing the hiring of Stone at Columbia.
"It's bullshit that the company's out of control," Hirschfield said. "Herbert and Matty have invented a myth and then come up with a solution to the myth. It's the 'big lie' technique."
"Alan, like it or not, Herbert and Matty are the controlling shareholders and believe that this entitles th
em to call the shots as they see
fit—even if you disagree and even if everyone in management thinks it's wrong for the company. But if you'll take Stone, the problem will be solved and your contract will be renewed."
"Have you met this man Stone?"
"No, but it doesn't make any difference. That is what Herbert and Matty want."
"I'm not prepared to commit an act which I sincerely believe to be against the best interest of the company and the shareholders. I'm in a better position to judge the kind of people needed to operate the company than the board is, certainly Matty and Herbert. My record over five years speaks for itself, both in performance and in attracting the best people available for the job. I'm more than willing to find a chief opera
ting officer, if the board and I
can agree that there is such a need, and I'll proceed to do so immediately. But to hire Stone on twenty-four hours notice would give credence to the board's ridiculous view that the company's out of control. It would destroy the management staff's confidence in me and themselves, and it's just plain crazy."
Lufkin reiterated his warning. "I'm trying to come as a friend. I'm trying to come as somebody who wants to sec the thing stay together rather than be torn apart. You should talk to Herbert as soon as possible."
Hirschfield knew he would not be fired in the next twenty-four hours, and he doubted he would be fired in the next five or six days. But Lufkin's visit still shook him. The war was intensifying. Though it was unclear whether Dan had been carrying a message from Herbert or truly had come on his own. Herbert's words at the height of the December furor resonated in Alan's memory as if they had been spoken yesterday: "If we don't get him now, we'll get him in six months."
Alan had considered it an empty threat then. But six months had passed. And he knew that Dan Lufkin's warning—delivered softly, on this cool, rainy evening in early June—was serious.
FIFTY-FIVE
The regular monthly meeting of the board of directors the next day was acrimonious from beginning to end. However, it was no
more
a
crimonious than the May or April meetings, and for that at least Hirschfield was grateful.
One of the few peaceful interludes in the meeting was a report on the studio's motion-picture production plans from Dan Melnick, whose appointment as president of the studio had been announced a week earlier. Having flown in from the coast for the board meeting,
Melnick
lived up to his reputation as one of Hollywood's most articulate executives, and the board—Herbert and Matty in particular— ladled praise upon
Melnick
as if he were a reincarnated Irving Thalberg. Alan
Hirschfield
, who had been assailed by the directors only a few days earlier for failing to hire someone superior to Melnick—and for taking four months to hire him—found their comments somewhat hypocritical. Herbert and Matty were so warm that a cynic might have suspected they were trying to establish an independent relationship with
Melnick
—a
Hirschfield
partisan—that could be employed in the event
Hirschfield
left the company.
Hirschfield
, however, did not say anything. Who could worry about a little hypocrisy in the middle of a war? As for Melnick, who possessed the most cynical spirit and acute sense of irony in the boardroom that day, he too kept his thoughts to himself but rather enjoyed the moment.
The board discussed and approved several new motion picture projects:
Somebody Killed Her Husband,
which would be the movie debut of Farrah Fawcett-Majors;
The First Deadly Sin,
on which Columbia Pictures had spent more than a million dollars developing a script since it acquired the rights in 1973; and
By Reason of Insanity,
a new Shane Stevens novel whose screen rights would cost Colum
bia $
350,000. It was disclosed that David Begelman had expressed an interest in producing the film of
By Reason of Insanity
before he tackled
Annie.
There was a pause in the boardroom, and then someone suggested that perhaps David's very first effort as a producer after leaving Columbia should be something with a different title.
Alan arrived at Herbert's office at 8:30 Friday morning.
"I just want you to know that I'm terribly disturbed about Lufkin's visit. If you have messages to send, you know me well enough to send them in person."
"I didn't know anything about it until afterwards. I'm sure Dan did it on his own."
"Whether you knew about it or not, it clearly reflects the attitude of the board toward mc, which at the very least was distressing to hear."
Herbert said nothing.
"Well," Alan went on, "if I'm going to be gone in three or four days, or I have only a week to cure all of our ills, I'd like to know about it now, because I'm getting ready to go into all the budget reviews for next year for all the divisions. I'll be in California all next week, and I have another big meeting in Chicago in a couple of weeks. It's going to be a very strenuous period, and I'm not going to go through some sham act. At this point every executive in the company wants to know whether I'm still going to be with the company in the foreseeable future. It's an intolerable position to be in. I don't want to waste my time. It's just not worth the effort on my part."
"If you would hire Bob Stone, you would solve a lot of problems. It would solve Matty's and Irwin's anger w
ith you. I can't control them. I
can influence Matty, but I can't control him. I don't know if anybody can control him at this point."
"I've spoken with the key executives in the company, and those who know Stone regard bringing him in as a disaster for the company.
I just can't break faith with these people by bringing in someone not qualified for the job. This so-called paragon of American management hasn't even been able to get a job for over a year. I owe a great sense of loyalty to our executives, and I'm not going to prostitute myself doing something that is just to save my own skin, if that's what this is really about. I'll be happy to seek someone else who is qualified, but not Stone."
"I still think Stone is the man," Herbert said. "Your problem isn't with me. Rosenhaus and Irwin are after your scalp. Stone will help solve that problem."
"Lufkin seems to think you're the one who needs to be satisfied. Herbert is my major nemesis here, he says. I better do something to give Herbert a victory or I'm going to be out on my ass."
"That has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I can't control the board. But hiring Stone would certainly help. If you hire him, your contract will be agreed upon. I suggest you go on to the coast, think it over, and let me know about Stone."
"I've already let you know, but for what it's worth, I'll think it over some more over the weekend."
Alan and
Berte
flew to Oklahoma City that afternoon for the twenty-fifth reunion of Alan's high school class—the class of 1953 of Classen High. "We propose a toast," the program said, "to all those giggly, gangly gals and linky. lanky guys of the Class of 1953 who have matured into beautiful people in 1978." Alan was the master of ceremonies at the Saturday evening banquet and dance.
By three o'clock Sunday afternoon, the
Hirschfield
s were ensconced again in Bungalow 8 of the Beverly Hills Hotel. By four, Joe Fischer. Dan
Melnick
, and Clivc Davis had wandered in. Gradually, a lethargic, rambling conversation among depressed people evolved into a council of war. It was clear to all that Alan's efforts to overthrow Herbert had failed and that in view of the fresh threat to fire Alan another plan had to be devised.
Melnick
, Fischer, and
Berte
had no n
ew ideas, but Clive
Davis did. Davis, who had not been so close to the daily fray as had the others, had always believed in the possibility of resolving Alan's and Herbert's differences through negotiation—without a putsch organized by Alan against Herbert, and without Herbert's firing Alan. Davis believed that the board's case against Hirschfield was based almost entirely upon premises that were false—demonstrably false. Hirschfield hadn't "gone Hollywood" in a destructive way; his active participation in the affairs of the studio was one of the keys to its creative vitality. The
Begelman
and Lisner embezzlements did not constitute evidence that the company was out of control; no controls were perfect, and Columbia's were among the best in the industry. Hirschfield did not object to hiring a chief operating officer; he objected to Robert Stone because he felt Stone was the wrong man for the job.
Clive Davis, a quiet, astute, and articulate man, had made a number of attempts over the months to reason with Herbert Allen, always to no avail. The emotional flames were too high. Davis also had failed to persuade
Hirschfield
to use caution and a
void extreme measures. But Clive
Davis had not given up, and in the bungalow that afternoon he suggested a new idea: The top two officers of each of Columbia's divisions—motion pictures, television, phonograph records, pinball machines, and so forth—should assemble in New York and, as a group, confront the Columbia board of directors. They should demand an audience. And they should present the case for Alan Hirschfield—the case that had been obscured in the angry war for control—the logical, rational, compelling reasons why they felt that
Hirschfield
was an excellent chief executive officer. There should be no haranguing, no stated threats. The mere assembly of the group would be dramatic enough (and an implied threat that they would all resign if
Hirschfield
was fired). They should be ca
lm, reasonable, and unemotional,
Clive Davis believed that such a gesture might bring the board to its senses.
Although
Hirschfield
was touched by the suggestion, he doubted it would have the desired effect. He also was deeply ambivalent.
"I'm sick of fighting, and I have serious doubts that I even want to be associated with these people anymore. What do
1
need this for? Maybe
1
should just let 'em fire me, pay me off,
leave me alone, and I'll go do something else."
"It's worth a try, Alan." Clive said. "You've invested t
oo much of yourself to quit now,
or let them run over you. This is your company as much as anyone else's. A lot of people are depending on you."