'LET's have some new clichés!" said producer Samuel Goldwyn to a Hollywood writer. (In his book "Great Hollywood Wit," Gene Shalit calls Goldwyn "the king of producers and the Lord of Apocrypha.")
I'M GOING to write the following, though it will probably be unpopular to do so: If you read last week's New Yorker and Ken Auletta's article on the Miramax king Harvey Weinstein, you know that Harvey didn't always come off smelling like a rose in those pages. And though I felt the writer was bending over backward to maintain a middle-of-the-road course, I keep encountering people who say, "Boy, oh, boy, did Ken ever give it to Harvey!"
So if that's the case and that's the general feeling, let me say first off that if Harvey Weinstein resembled someone like the slim, trim and handsome Bob Iger of ABC, nobody would be running around feeling perfectly free to blast him.
Harvey is sometimes loud, aggressive and just plain plump. In a society overwhelmed with anorexic longings, Harvey's size alone makes it easy to give him a hard time.
I'M STANDING up for Harvey. If you think I'm on his payroll, let me say, he has done a lot for charity in all the directions of his life, but he has never yet given me a gift I couldn't happily pass on to the maid.
I like to think I am the first person ever to write about Harvey and the accomplishments of Miramax, which we used to call "the little engine that could." But the reality is - there was practically no movie business in New York before Miramax appeared in 1989 with "sex, lies and videotape." A few studios had development offices, but they weren't much. The only people who really made films in the city were Woody Allen, Sidney Lumet, Martin Scorsese and the now defunct Orion. Most movies emanated from Los Angeles.
With the advent of Miramax came New Line/Fine Line, Gramercy, October Films, Sony Pictures Classics, USA Studios, Fox Searchlight, Paramount Classics, etc. Many production companies such as Good Machine and Green Street blossomed. None of this could have happened without Miramax. Harvey reinvented the movie business in the East.
Gossip and entertainment reporting flourished from all this happening in the big city. There is much more fodder in this town now than B.H. (Before Harvey) and, in truth, there is much more going on in Manhattan than in California. If you want an example, there are no gossip columns in L.A., but there are lots emanating from New York. And that makes for liveliness, vivacity, interest and news whether you like the idea or not.
I SAW Harvey coming out of Morton's in L.A. the night "Shakespeare in Love" won Best Picture. He was sweating through his tux, waving his Oscar in the air, and he engendered a hatred that night by Hollywood that hasn't abated. But it's jealousy, and it's undeserved. Harvey is a true movie lover, he is a seeker of truth on film. He is a fan first and foremost, and he has a warm heart that has never come anywhere near the "suits" of the studio system.
Sometimes, he yells and loses his temper. Gossip columnists go completely crazy these days when anyone even normally raises their voice. There is so little true passion, juice and feeling going on that it is easy to exaggerate a giant like Harvey who has passions, problems and is pursuing his own brand of happiness without self-censorship. Not for nothing did the New York Landmarks Conservancy name Harvey and his brother Bob as "Living Landmarks." They have done much for New York. Not for nothing does every charity look to them for bailouts.
Not for nothing do stars and creative people turn to Harvey when the system has ground them down. I thought in the end, Ken Auletta's piece did a service just reciting Harvey's gifts to cinema - things he brought from elsewhere or things he made happen.
As you read this, Harvey and Miramax are associated with the following interesting and compelling films - "Gangs of New York," "Chicago," "The Hours," "Frida," "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind," "The Quiet American" - and "La Bohème" on Broadway. And I probably forgot a few. Take that, Hollywood!