"I feel compelled to restate," Herbert said, "that I think you're making a very serious mistake which is threatening severe damage to this company. From what I hear, the studio is on the verge of collapse."
"The studio is on the verge of collapse? That's certainly news to me. I just came from there, and as of the day before yesterday, it wasn't on the verge of collapse."
"
Melnick
appears to be a horror as a stand-in for Begelman. Danny can't run the studio. The most important producers on the lot
are
threatening to leave."
"Who's threatening to leave?" Hirschfield asked.
"Peter Gube
r. Jon Peters. Ray might even leave if this thing isn't cleared up."
"Well, that's all ridiculous, and you should know enough to recognize that it's ridiculous. It's nothing more than another dose of Ray's efforts to get his friend back in office."
"You couldn't be more wrong," Herbert said. "There is a leadership vacuum and a real threat to the viability of the studio as a result of your position on this thing."
"Bullshit! First of all,
Melnick
is not a horror, to use your word. He's
been running the studio on a de
facto basis for several months now, since long before the Begelman problem developed. You know that was the plan. As
Begelman
got more involved with television, Danny—who you
'll recall was David's handpicke
d choice for the job—would assume more of the burden of the studio. He's done that and has been functioning well. Ray has been doing business with him. Guber has been doing business with him. Peters has been doing business with him. And so has everybody else. The Guber deal is not in jeopardy. I've been in touch with Peter, as has Danny. The Jon Peters deal is for one picture—
Eyes
—which is proceeding. The deal may or may not be extended, but Peters is working well with Melnick. As for Stark, I can't speak for him because he's obviously the man behind your scenario that the studio is on the verge of collapse."
Like jousters about to charge, Hirschfield and Allen stood facing each other from opposite ends of the thirty-foot office.
"You're wrong! You're absolutely wrong!" Allen declared, in a voice higher, louder, and more agitated than Hirschfield had ever heard from him. "The studio
is
going to collapse! It
is
a horror show. The studio can't make deals with anybody. There's no one there who can make deals.
Melnick
can't do it. The only one who can do it is
Begelman
and we've got to bring him back!"
"If you and the board would only give me your support," Hirschfield shouted, "there
are
plenty of people who we can get! No matter what you say or think you know, the studio is not the problem! I plan to get someone to oversee both pictures and TV like
Begelman
has done. And it won't be hard if
I
have the board's support. What happened to all the support I was going to get, that you pledged to give me? What happened to that scenario?"
"That was then, and now is now, and you've got to bring David back."
"No way."
Neither man spoke for several seconds.
"Look. Alan," Herbert said, his voice quieter, "do it for me. I've never put anything on a personal basis before, but we do have a long personal relationship that means a lot to me. Leaving aside everything else, how about doing it for me, because of who I am, because of who you are, because of who
we
are
. I am making a personal request to you that you reinstate David."
"This is not a personal matter. Herbert."
"I'm making it a personal matter. I want you to do it for me."
"Well. I won't do it for you."
It was time to join Matty Rosenhaus, Irwin Kramer, and Leo Jaffe in the boardroom for an informal meeting of the principal directors. Rosenhaus had demanded the meeting once he learned that Hirschfield had returned early from Los Angeles.
Old arguments were repeated, and Herbert stated his new argument that "the studio is on the verge of collapse."
"First of all," said Hirschfield, "the studio is not collapsing. Second of all, I can and will find someone just as good or better to replace David. But to do it, I need the support of the board. True support. Without that support I'll get nowhere. There's nothing wrong with the company—
Melnick
's doing well, as is everybody else in management. The only impediment is the board."
"Can you guarantee that we won't lose Guber?" Herbert parried. "Can you guarantee that we'll make a new deal with Jon Peters?"
"Obviously I can't absolutely guarantee anything, but I have every reason to believe that these will be ongoing relationships."
"We may lose Ray," Matty said.
"If we
lose Ray Stark, we lose Ray Stark," Hirschfield replied. "The whole studio doesn't depend on Ray Stark. We can't run our whole business on Ray Stark's whim. We've been trying to negotiate a new deal with Ray for a year. Supposedly everything was fine. Now he's holding out, supposedly because he doesn't know who'll be running the studio. It's a phony argument.
Melnick
will be running the studio just as he has been for the last six months, and somebody else who is just as qualified as
Begelman
will be overseeing both pictures and television."
"Ray's the most important asset this company has," Herbert said.*
*The question of Stark's possibly leaving the studio if Begelman was not reinstated prompted the following later exchange between Stark and an SEC investigator: "Did you ever imply to anyone at
Columbia Pictures Industries. Inc. that your services would be conditioned in the future upon the return of Mr. Begelman to some position at Columbia Pictures'" the investigator asked.
“If Begelman were not head of the Company I would just sit out the rest of my contract—well, not sit it out, but I would work out whatever there was left, but I would not make any other deal until I knew who it was that I was reporting to. This was finally settled by my willingness to report to Leo Jaffe. However, if they wanted to bring somebody in that I would have to report to and that I did not like. I wouldn't make the pictures. . . ."
"This company has a lot of important assets," Alan retorted. "Ray is one, but there are others. Furthermore, I must reemphasize
t
hat if David
Begelman
comes back into this company, there will be no deal with General Cinema, there will be no deal with IBM, and there will be no relationship with Time, Inc. Nobody respectable will have anything to do with us."
Leo Jaffe said: "If
Begelman
is brought back—I'm not saying Alan should change his mind, but if he should decide to bring David back—the board must show its support for Alan with a new contract, so that people will know that Alan is running the company—not David, not the board, but Alan."
"Absolutely," Rosenhaus said. "Alan should have the best deal in the industry."
"I feel," said
Hirschfield
, "that it is somewhat inappropriate to be discussing my contract in connection with whether I bring
Begelman
back. In less polite circles, it might be called a payoff."
"Alan, please don't be unreasonable," Rosenhaus replied. "It would be the most appropriate thing in the world for us to show the world and you how much we value you by giving you a new contract."
"I really don't think we should be discussing something like that at a time like this,"
Hirschfield
said.
"Well, be that as it may," Rosenhaus said, "we're asking you, on behalf of the entire board, to once again reconsider your decision, to look at this thing with a fresh eye. You and David have done so much together. You're a winning team. I remain convinced that it would be a tragedy for the company if the team were to break up."
Hirschfield
sighed. "All right. I'll do this: In an effort not to appear to be just a totally stubborn human being, I'll think the whole thing through again this weekend. I'll reconsider in good faith. And I'll let you know Monday."
The meeting broke up and
Hirschfield
limped back to his office.
Later in the afternoon, following his father's lead, Alan Hirschfield had his own audience with Charlie Allen.
"Look, Charlie, I have no animus toward you, or the family, or anyone else." Alan said. "This thing has to do with being responsible for running a company. The man is a crook, an admitted crook. I
feel badly for him
and maybe he is sick. But there's not a company in the United States that would take him back under the circumstances, and I'm not about to be the one that docs it. If I did, there would be a holocaust of publicity."
"They can't hurt you with what they write," Charlie Allen said. "It would blow over."
"It wouldn't blow over. It would be embarrassing to everyone, not the least of whom would be Allen & Company."
"Well, please try to reconsider whether there isn't some way around it."
"I am reconsidering, Charlie, but I don't think you're seeing the whole picture. You're only listening to one side—from Herbert, Irwin, and Ray. You're just not hearing the whole story, and I think you're being misled and misguided. If you wanted to put an end to this thing, you could put an end to it."
"I can't interfere, Alan. This is Herbie's deal. There are too many problems if I interfere. You understand that."
"I think in this case you should. Everybody's going to be the loser if somebody with leadership and authority and intelligence doesn't interfere."
"I just can't."
Hirschfield
had tried being tough and tenacious, and it had not worked. During the telephone board meeting the previous week, he had thrown (he knockout punch and gone to his comer, savoring his victory, hearing distinctly the count of ten, only to turn around
and find his opponent standing—clear-e
yed, uninjured, and demanding that the fight continue. Angry and bewildered, Alan had swung again and again with no effect. His opponent, with a flurry of low blows, had regained the offensive.
The decision to banish David Begelman hung sus
pended over the company, unimplemente
d. unannounced, and—it was now evident— flatly and forever unacceptable to the board. Hirschfield's contractual right to hire and fire the officers of the corporation seemed to have been rendered moot. While the directors technically were required to accept his decision, they had shown that they would spare no tactic to induce him to change it.
Moreover, the threat to investigate Berte, the attempt to mobilize Norman Hirschfield against his son, the statement to Bill Thompso
n that "if we don't get him now,
we'll get him in six months." all represented to Alan something more sinist
er than illicit tactics over a s
ingle issue. The tactics appeared to signal a broad assault on
Hirschfield
's authority to run the company—not just his right to rule on Begelman but his overall contractual right to function as the chief executive officer without undue interference from the board.
They could not fire him—at least not immediately. But they could undermine his authority. It was clear that the merits of the
Begelman
case were no longer the issue. The issue was who was the boss of the corporation, and Herbert Allen seemed intent on proving at all costs that he was.
Alan considered resigning. It would be a dramatic gesture, but what would it accomplish? It would amount to a betrayal of the people in management, people like Joe Fischer, Allen Adler, and Give Davis, whom he had brought into the company and who had supported him not only on the Begelman issue but on other issues as well. He couldn't expect them all to resign with him. By resigning, he also would forfeit the opportunity to enjoy the results of the company's success—success that he had orchestrated.
He decided not to resign.
He thought back to the board meeting of November 16, barely over two weeks earlier. It seemed like months. He had been prepared to render his decision that day,
but at the board's request he h
ad agreed to reconsider. In fact, he had only pretended to reconsider, and had announced his decision the following week. The decision had not adhered, and now the board was demanding that he reconsider again. He had agreed again.