Old Scott Rudin Profile Talks About Failed Sonnenfeld Movie
Feb 20, 2022 1:36:48 GMT -5
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Post by gothicarchiesfan on Feb 20, 2022 1:36:48 GMT -5
"Over the years, Rudin has delivered more than thirty pictures for Paramount. And many have been hits. You'd think the studio, schlepping along in the last year with awful movies like The Four Feathers, Serving Sara, and Star Trek: Nemesis, would do all in its power to make Rudin--by far the biggest fish in the studio's depleted pond--feel the love.
But Rudin has described the process of dealing with the studio as "enervating." He's told Lansing that he'd rather have trailers for his upcoming films attached to the next Matrix installment (which belongs to Warner) than Paramount's big shot for the summer, Tomb Raider II. And perhaps most damaging of all, he's complained to outsiders that Lansing and her boss, Jon Dolgen, no longer seem to care much about the movies--and no longer have the stomach to bet on less-than-obvious projects. "He said he doesn't understand what happened to them over the last five years," says one confidant. "They're all tired."
Rudin is not alone in his dismay. Agents complain bitterly that Paramount's representations in negotiations are unreliable and that its choices are only about avoiding risk. "You know you're going to waste your time trying to sell new directors and new talent there," says an agent who represents a very important star. Director Steven Soderbergh is said to have called Paramount "the place where dreams go to die."
Recent tangles with Paramount seem to have diminished his chances of changing his luck. Rudin may have thought he had a shot at a big, multipicture franchise when he signed on to produce a film based on the popular mock-Gothic Lemony Snicket children's books (appropriately titled A Series of Unfortunate Events). There have been nine books in the series, all best-sellers. Rudin, eyeing a Harry Potter--like opportunity, signed director Barry Sonnenfeld, who made The Addams Family with him, and Jim Carrey agreed to star.
But Paramount fought hard over the budget. With visual effects and Carrey's fee, the cost ballooned to more than $100 million. The studio insisted on driving down the price. Rudin and Sonnenfeld spent the better part of last year developing the property while budget negotiations ground on. Eventually Rudin and Sonnenfeld worked the price down to a number in the mid-nineties that they thought the studio was prepared to accept.
Yet with a crew in the midst of preparation for filming, Lansing balked. She insisted that the studio had always taken the position that the budget could not exceed $85 million. Rudin says this was news to him--so unexpected that he felt like Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight. And Sonnenfeld's agent, David O'Connor, confirms that the studio changed the rules. "The $85 million figure came as a complete surprise to everybody and had never been discussed," he says.
In fact, many who deal with Paramount say the tactic is routine. But Lansing maintains that parties to a negotiation often fail to listen when the studio names a number. "We're always clear," she says. "The problem is, they don't hear you. You say eighty to eighty-five and they think it means a hundred."
Meanwhile, another Lemony Snicket battle was waged over the amount of gross profit that would be paid to the key players. Lansing says Paramount wanted to hold the line at 25 percent. But with Carrey, Rudin, and Sonnenfeld involved, that became tough. (Carrey alone usually gets 20 percent.) All three agreed to reduce their usual participation, and finally they came within one and a half percentage points of the studio's goal. But Paramount still wouldn't go forward.
At that point, Rudin quit the project. "I found the amount of energy being poured into this circle jerk frustrating and debilitating and completely unrewarding and painful," he says. "And I felt that my talent relationships had been compromised by it. And since I wasn't going to win, my only choice seemed to be to not play. The only thing I felt in walking away from it was relief."
Sonnenfeld stayed on and kept trying to shave down the movie's cost. But Paramount decided to do what it and other studios so often do: find a partner to help pay the bills. And it turned to the one studio that Sonnenfeld absolutely wanted to avoid: DreamWorks. (Sonnenfeld had feuded with strong-willed DreamWorks executive Walter Parkes during the making of Men in Black II.)
Sure enough, Sonnenfeld was promptly forced off the project. To Sonnenfeld's agent, it seemed that his client had been brutally betrayed after nearly a year of work. And he didn't believe Paramount's claim that it had tried to find another partner. "Warner Brothers, Universal, Fox, MGM, and Intermedia are among the potential partners not contacted for this movie," O'Connor says. "So I ask you, How hard did Paramount actually look for a partner after DreamWorks said they were interested?"
Rudin threatened to break with Paramount altogether if the studio ended up giving Parkes a bigger piece of the gross than he would have gotten to make the film. The studio settled the matter by agreeing to pay Rudin $1.25 million as well as 2.5 percent of the profit on any Lemony Snicket films. All told, between preproduction costs and the payoffs to Rudin and Sonnenfeld, Paramount ended up sinking several million dollars into a project that would now essentially start over.
No doubt, Paramount derived lots of comfort from getting DreamWorks involved. The studios can split the bill, and with DreamWorks on board, Steven Spielberg is helping to shape the material. But Rudin feels that bringing in a partner was a sign of weakness. "I found the entire enterprise relentlessly depressing in what it said about the way movies get made today," he says."
But Rudin has described the process of dealing with the studio as "enervating." He's told Lansing that he'd rather have trailers for his upcoming films attached to the next Matrix installment (which belongs to Warner) than Paramount's big shot for the summer, Tomb Raider II. And perhaps most damaging of all, he's complained to outsiders that Lansing and her boss, Jon Dolgen, no longer seem to care much about the movies--and no longer have the stomach to bet on less-than-obvious projects. "He said he doesn't understand what happened to them over the last five years," says one confidant. "They're all tired."
Rudin is not alone in his dismay. Agents complain bitterly that Paramount's representations in negotiations are unreliable and that its choices are only about avoiding risk. "You know you're going to waste your time trying to sell new directors and new talent there," says an agent who represents a very important star. Director Steven Soderbergh is said to have called Paramount "the place where dreams go to die."
Recent tangles with Paramount seem to have diminished his chances of changing his luck. Rudin may have thought he had a shot at a big, multipicture franchise when he signed on to produce a film based on the popular mock-Gothic Lemony Snicket children's books (appropriately titled A Series of Unfortunate Events). There have been nine books in the series, all best-sellers. Rudin, eyeing a Harry Potter--like opportunity, signed director Barry Sonnenfeld, who made The Addams Family with him, and Jim Carrey agreed to star.
But Paramount fought hard over the budget. With visual effects and Carrey's fee, the cost ballooned to more than $100 million. The studio insisted on driving down the price. Rudin and Sonnenfeld spent the better part of last year developing the property while budget negotiations ground on. Eventually Rudin and Sonnenfeld worked the price down to a number in the mid-nineties that they thought the studio was prepared to accept.
Yet with a crew in the midst of preparation for filming, Lansing balked. She insisted that the studio had always taken the position that the budget could not exceed $85 million. Rudin says this was news to him--so unexpected that he felt like Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight. And Sonnenfeld's agent, David O'Connor, confirms that the studio changed the rules. "The $85 million figure came as a complete surprise to everybody and had never been discussed," he says.
In fact, many who deal with Paramount say the tactic is routine. But Lansing maintains that parties to a negotiation often fail to listen when the studio names a number. "We're always clear," she says. "The problem is, they don't hear you. You say eighty to eighty-five and they think it means a hundred."
Meanwhile, another Lemony Snicket battle was waged over the amount of gross profit that would be paid to the key players. Lansing says Paramount wanted to hold the line at 25 percent. But with Carrey, Rudin, and Sonnenfeld involved, that became tough. (Carrey alone usually gets 20 percent.) All three agreed to reduce their usual participation, and finally they came within one and a half percentage points of the studio's goal. But Paramount still wouldn't go forward.
At that point, Rudin quit the project. "I found the amount of energy being poured into this circle jerk frustrating and debilitating and completely unrewarding and painful," he says. "And I felt that my talent relationships had been compromised by it. And since I wasn't going to win, my only choice seemed to be to not play. The only thing I felt in walking away from it was relief."
Sonnenfeld stayed on and kept trying to shave down the movie's cost. But Paramount decided to do what it and other studios so often do: find a partner to help pay the bills. And it turned to the one studio that Sonnenfeld absolutely wanted to avoid: DreamWorks. (Sonnenfeld had feuded with strong-willed DreamWorks executive Walter Parkes during the making of Men in Black II.)
Sure enough, Sonnenfeld was promptly forced off the project. To Sonnenfeld's agent, it seemed that his client had been brutally betrayed after nearly a year of work. And he didn't believe Paramount's claim that it had tried to find another partner. "Warner Brothers, Universal, Fox, MGM, and Intermedia are among the potential partners not contacted for this movie," O'Connor says. "So I ask you, How hard did Paramount actually look for a partner after DreamWorks said they were interested?"
Rudin threatened to break with Paramount altogether if the studio ended up giving Parkes a bigger piece of the gross than he would have gotten to make the film. The studio settled the matter by agreeing to pay Rudin $1.25 million as well as 2.5 percent of the profit on any Lemony Snicket films. All told, between preproduction costs and the payoffs to Rudin and Sonnenfeld, Paramount ended up sinking several million dollars into a project that would now essentially start over.
No doubt, Paramount derived lots of comfort from getting DreamWorks involved. The studios can split the bill, and with DreamWorks on board, Steven Spielberg is helping to shape the material. But Rudin feels that bringing in a partner was a sign of weakness. "I found the entire enterprise relentlessly depressing in what it said about the way movies get made today," he says."
www.esquire.com/entertainment/tv/a1191/esq0503-may-industry/