How one dream job became a nightmare
"I have a dream job," I told myself. "I have the power to get pictures made. I can change people's lives, give them new careers. Why is it, then, that I feel like I'm walking in quicksand?"
I recalled that moment the other day in learning of the firing of Michael De Luca. Here was a guy who had the ultimate dream job. He was giving people start dates when he still had zits. Yet at 35, he's a has-been. At least for the moment.
De Luca's demise at New Line has been amply chronicled in the press. Indeed, people have asked me why he's received so much attention. He's not the only studio chief to get canned. New Line is certainly no Warner Bros. or Paramount.
But De Luca's story is special. For one thing, he had a much-heralded father-son bond with his boss, Bob Shaye, sort of like young Al Pacino and Brando.
De Luca's "bad boy" aura gave him panache in a profession dominated by suits. The press also doted on De Luca because of his candor. Unlike his brethren, he didn't sidestep questions. He looked you in the eye and let you have it straight.
Maybe he was a kid playing ball with grownups, but he was damned good at it. You could always count on New Line for surprises, whether it was "Seven" or "Austin Powers," "Rush Hour" or "Boogie Nights."
THERE WERE DEBACLES along the way, but the place rocked. In an industry where all the companies make the same movies, New Line stood out, and De Luca was the key.
Until he stepped into the quicksand, that is. Then Bob Shaye reminded him that, in the brave new world of AOL, New Line had to reposition itself with more modest, risk-averse product.
In other words, become like a stripped-down version of everyone else.
I'm glad I wasn't in on that meeting. Even in better times, a meeting with Shaye is akin to running the ball into the Baltimore Ravens' front line.
Mind you, Shaye is a brilliant guy. You can talk art, politics and literature with him, but just when you think you've found Bob Shaye, the genial aesthete, he turns into Moammar Qaddafi.
He's also a billionaire, and maybe that's part of the problem. Associates say he was a lot easier to deal with before he had so much to lose.
"Bob feels people are out to exploit him," says one associate.
Nonetheless, Shaye and his silver-tongued partner, Michael Lynne, have taken their company from "A Nightmare on Elm Street" genre pics to the $270 million "Lord of the Rings" trilogy.
IT'S BEEN A REMARKABLE journey, somewhat akin to that of Miramax. The difference is that Miramax, while moving into big-budget fare, has consistently split the risk with studios while simultaneously building its "franchises" like "Scary Movie" or "Scream."
New Line also has focused on upscale pictures but has run into unpleasant surprises. How could an Adam Sandler picture like "Little Nicky" stumble that badly?
And how could a glossy piece like "Town and Country" implode into an $80 million boondoggle? The buzz is so bad on that movie that Bert Fields and Pat Kingsley have been sending threatening legal letters to journalists who have never written about it, have no intention of writing about it and, after reading the letter, may have no intention of ever seeing it.
WILL DE LUCA get another gig? Sure he will. His best days, no doubt, are ahead of him. And New Line hopefully will find a way of sustaining its idiosyncratic identity within the AOL labyrinth.
It's just that I hate to see a good thing end. I suppose it all comes back to my reality check of some years ago. There just aren't any dream jobs around anymore.
