James Garner: A Weight Off His Broad Shoulders : A winner at last in his battle with Universal, the Hollywood veteran is free to work--or take it easy

James Garner is standing on the lawn in front of the Virginia Science Museum in Richmond, Va., ignoring for the moment the business at hand--his film crew, the 1930s automobiles and the frenetic James Woods rehearsing a scene from the upcoming Hallmark Hall of Fame TV movie, “My Name is Bill W.”

Wearing a huge blue parka to shield him from the chill, Garner is surrounded by a clamoring group of fans, aged 5 to 75, who want nothing more than to get his attention and his autograph. As each scrap of paper is thrust in front of him, Garner signs with gusto. Middle-aged women thank him with enthusiastic hugs. Their 20-year-old daughters do the same. One old man watching Garner charm Virginia belles of all ages asks him what kind of after shave he uses.

“I loved that show ‘Maverick,’ ” another man tells Garner. “That was the best one you ever did.” Garner chuckles, realizing that despite everything he has done since, more than 40 movies and several other TV series, he will never be anything but that wisecracking gambler to a whole generation of fans.

Still, more than half the autograph hounds pressing him for a few kind words were not even born when “Maverick” went on the air some 32 years ago. For many of them, Garner will always be the conniving private detective Jim Rockford. Some of the youngest probably remember him only as one of TV’s most prolific commercial pitchmen--the lovable quipster who used to hawk Polaroid cameras with Mariette Hartley or the rugged man’s man who used to push beef and Mazdas. Now 60 and the producer of “quality” TV movies, Garner projects the same solid, home-on-the-range-kind-of-guy image that has made him one of the most enduring television stars of all time.

But his 35 years in show business haven’t been as congenial as his congenial public demeanor suggests. When it comes to business--and by his own admission he has always been in this business for the cash--Garner is a maverick, noisily fighting the Hollywood establishment for the money he insists is rightly his.

It hasn’t been easy. He says the stress from his protracted legal battles with Hollywood has contributed in part to numerous health problems as well as heartache, bitterness and Angst . He has survived two heart surgeries within the last year, including a quintuple bypass last April. He has had to give up smoking. He has had to cut back on his consumption of thick, juicy steaks. And his reconstructed coronary arteries now require that he walk every day on a rented treadmill, even while on location in his spartan suite at the Richmond Holiday Inn.

But Garner never gives up. And eventually, as evidenced by his multimillion-dollar out-of-court settlement with MCA-Universal just two weeks ago, Garner always wins.

On March 23, Garner finally settled his eight-year battle with Universal over his 37.5% share of the profits from his hit NBC-TV series “The Rockford Files.” Garner had sued Universal for $16.5-million-plus punitive damages, claiming that the studio’s “shady” accounting procedures had robbed him of millions. Before the settlement, Universal’s accountants had determined that despite taking in more than $120 million in revenues from syndication, foreign and other sales, the show had earned less than $1 million in profits. Garner’s share of those profits until two weeks ago had been a relatively paltry $249,313.

Under terms of the agreement, Garner could not reveal the amount of the settlement--he previously had turned down a $6-million offer--but it was apparently enough to keep him smiling for at least the entire week after settling his case.

“My wife keeps telling me to wipe the smirk off my face,” Garner said from his home in Brentwood a few days after the settlement, proving once again that vast sums of money really do make people happy.

“There is justice in the world if you stick around and fight (the studios) long enough. The problem is a lot of people don’t have the money or the time or the stamina to fight it to the end. A lot of people can’t risk their career the way I did. There was a lot of mental anguish and heartache. But it was definitely worth it.”

Interviewed in Richmond last month just a few days before the case was supposed to go to trial, Garner said he was eager to tell his story to a jury. Banking on his enormous popularity, he was confident a jury would take his side in his arduous one-man battle against the studio giant. He also said he was determined to force Universal to reveal publicly its “bookkeeping tricks,” and thereby put a stop to those practices common to all studios that, he said, continually deprive actors and producers of the money they deserve.

Those “bookkeeping tricks,” according to Garner’s suit and a story chronicling the financial odyssey of “The Rockford Files” in Barron’s magazine, include: Universal paying huge sums to itself for distributing the show; Universal charging the show interest “on the theory that the company could have invested the money spent on production in, say, certificates of deposits and earned income”; underestimating revenues by not crediting discounts for various services such as duplication of episodes to the “Rockford” account; charging “Rockford” for the striking of sets that were never struck, for employee fringe benefits that were never paid and “playing fast and loose with the rules governing how much the show paid to rent props, costumes and other production paraphernalia from Universal.”

MCA-Universal has refused to comment on Garner’s suit.

“I made ‘Rockford’ not to have a job, but that was the one I was going to make money on. That’s why you do a television series,” said Garner, who quit “Rockford” in disgust half way through the 1980 season. “And that show damn near killed me.

“When I finished with ‘Rockford,’ I really didn’t want to be in the business anymore. I remember making statements at the time that I didn’t want to put any more paintings on (Universal boss) Lew Wasserman’s walls. I was sick of working--hard, physical work that literally damn near killed me, and nobody gets paid but them. That’ll take the heart out of you after a while.”

Garner speculated that Universal chose to settle rather than risk a jury trial and a public accounting of its books. Nonetheless, Garner said that his long fight and hefty settlement had “put a nick in the studios’ old ways, a small chink in their armor.”

“It’s not going to change their basic attitude,” said Garner, who also walked out on “Maverick” at the height of its popularity in 1960, demanding that Warner Bros. increase his share of the financial pie. The studio refused and tried to replace Garner with other actors. But the series was never the same and died shortly thereafter.

“The (studios) are of the mentality that they’re going to get what they can any way they can, and if you want what’s yours you will have to come get it. But I think if more people had fought them or would fight them in the future, the practice of creative bookkeeping would be much less frequent. If they see they can’t get away with it, they’ll stop. My advice to other people is what’s yours is yours so go fight for it.”

Already wealthy and now relatively healthy and free from his time-consuming legal wars, Garner is ready to resume the good life--hitting the golf links again with a vengeance and prowling the sidelines at Raider football games. He still makes little effort to conceal his rancor for the studios whenever he muses on the subject of money. But his “comfortable” life style now assured for the rest of his days, Garner said he feels much more generous toward Hollywood.

“I’ve been really down on the business for the last 10 years,” Garner said, “and maybe I do feel better toward the industry now that this fight is finally over. I’m willing to read scripts where I wasn’t before. My agent had to force me to read anything. Now I will reevaluate a lot of things that I turned down. I read two scripts last night, and I’ll tell you something funny. One of them came from Universal. That shows you. They don’t care about any of this at all.”

Through all his TV incarnations and off-screen turmoil, Garner is still in great demand all over Hollywood. He is a skilled and respected actor who never really acts --at least not in the way Dustin Hoffman or Robert De Niro act . Much like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood, Garner’s image--a real man’s man, a debonair rogue with a quick wit and irresistible charm--precedes him. He just is up there on the screen, and whatever he is on the screen, people seem to love it.

“I’ve never tried to analyze the secret to being popular,” Garner said. “I’m just very fortunate. I guess I’m just one of those guys who walks in the door and is 6-foot-2 with this square jaw and dark hair who they all said just couldn’t help but be a star.” Garner says that part of his renewed enthusiasm for the business comes from his success in recent years in playing more emotional, human characters involved in genuine human struggles in TV movies such as “Heartsounds” and “Promise” and features such as “Murphy’s Romance.”

But, his financial windfall aside, much of his renewed zeal stems from two Hallmark Hall of Fame movies, the 1986 drama “Promise” and “My Name is Bill W.,” a biography of the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, airing April 30 on ABC-TV, which he starred in and produced under the banner of his own production company. “Promise,” in which Garner played a small-town bachelor who is forced to care for his schizophrenic brother played by Woods, won five Emmys in 1986, including best drama of the year for producer Garner and best actor for Woods.

“My Name is Bill W.” again stars Woods as Bill Wilson, the fast-talking drunk who started an organization that has literally saved the lives of millions, and Garner, in a small role as Dr. Bob, the co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous.

“As an actor, you always want to do good stuff, but I guess I just got to the point where I said, ‘I can live comfortably. I don’t have to do trash just for the money anymore.’ I’m no crusader. I’m still in the entertainment business. But whenever we can find a story that says something about the condition of man, that’s what we want to do,” said Garner.

Said his business partner, Peter Duchow: “In the last few years, since he decided to do television again, from ‘Heartsounds’ (a TV movie co-starring Mary Tyler Moore about the emotional trauma a family experiences when one member suffers a heart attack) to ‘Promise’ to this, it hasn’t been bad television. Of course I’m leaving out one.” Duchow omitted Garner’s role in “Space,” the ponderous, critically panned miniseries based on James Michener’s novel. He also didn’t mention Garner’s starring performance in the forgettable 1984 feature “Tank.”

But under the Garner-Duchow label, Garner is genuinely committed to producing one “not bad” TV film every few years. Something, he says, that makes people take notice, that moves them. His company currently is developing a story about the American Indians.

It’s a peculiar dichotomy, this late commitment to quality TV films and Garner’s shameless admission that he got into this business and stayed in it primarily to make money. It’s a curious contradiction for a man who is willing to battle the studios for every dollar he can get and peddle products for big bucks on the side.

In 1954, after a stint in the Korean War and after doing some 70 different unappealing jobs, including sailor, soldier, bathing suit model and carpet layer, Garner, then 25, was offered a role on stage in “The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial.” The Oklahoma-born heartthrob was an introvert and acting scared “the hell out of” him, but three years later, he was a big-time TV star.

“At first I didn’t want any part of it, but I couldn’t think of another way to make a good living,” Garner said. “It certainly wasn’t that I had some wonderful dream of being an actor. I gave myself five years to make it and before I knew it, I was in ‘Maverick,’ and the years kept going by, and suddenly I realized that I had been around for a long time. But all along I just thought I was some young guy trying to get along in the business.”

Garner likes to cultivate the idea that he is still a guy--a little older, wiser but no worse for wear--trying to get along in the business. It’s just that now he is a guy with clout. He makes quality movies, it seems, because he can. And it seems he will do commercials for wheelbarrows full of cash because he can do that, too.

He is a control freak. By his own admission, he sometimes meddles a bit too much as executive producer on the set of “Bill W.” when he should just be acting. As the Richmond air gets colder and shadows from the sinking sun get longer, Garner scurries away from the autograph seekers to hurry his production crew along.

“Garner’s not too bad,” said Daniel Petrie, the director of “My Name is Bill W.” “Occasionally he’ll have a little flair of the executive producer in him and worry out loud about the money or the schedule. But mostly he keeps his acting hat on around the set and lets us all do our jobs.”

Though Garner has always viewed work as a necessary evil and though his bank account is now reinforced to the point where he could spend the rest of his days lolling happily around on a bright-green fairway somewhere, it’s still hard to imagine Garner not working, not mixing it up with the studios, not trading knowing looks with Woods in front of a camera, not cheerfully bantering with his admirers on the street.

“I just love Jim because he’s the real thing,” said Woods during a break in the shooting of ‘Bill W.’ “The motor doesn’t switch gears when he gets on the screen. The same solid, real, definite, direct human being that you deal with every day in real life is right there on the screen in front of you. There is no interface between the world of truth and the world of acting. It’s one and the same.”

Garner says he plans to move out of Los Angeles. “I’ve been here since the ‘40s,” he said, “and I’m just getting sick of it. It’s terrible to see what’s happened to the city. I want to get away from the gridlock and all the filth and the crime.” And Garner predicts that in the future it might be a bit more difficult to get him out of the wide-open spaces of New Mexico.

But he is a television star. And television stars who have endured for 35 years aren’t about to fade quietly into the red-rock mountains of the Southwest.

“I’ll keep acting and producing and we’ll keep finding these films every once in a while,” Garner said, a bit weary from a long day of acting, executive producing and reminiscing about his career. “The acting is still fun. I enjoy creating with other actors. There’s nothing better than coming home and telling my wife, ‘Boy, we had a good scene today.’ And I do enjoy the producing. Getting the film made the way you want it made. That’s fun for me. I’m sure I’ll keep doing that. I mean, a guy’s still got to make a living.”

Even if it means doing it with a rich guy’s smile pasted eternally to his multimillion-dollar face.