The Magic of Movies in a Confusing Hollywood

Jeffrey Katzenberg is right. Movies should be magical. When they are, few things are as special.

So how come they aren’t so magical so much of the time?

Part of the explanation has been reported by The Times and elsewhere in the wake of the mini-furor over Katzenberg’s 28-page memo to his key executives.

As the Walt Disney Studios chairman admits, too much money is spent on making movies. Too much emphasis is put on big-name stars instead of the elusive “good story.” Not enough effort is spent on leaving the comfort of Morton’s and familiarity of the Improv to find new talent in--heaven forbid--places outside L.A. and New York.

But reading stories about the memo, and the memo itself, is ultimately discouraging.

Katzenberg pulls his punches in a big way. For each reform he passionately articulates, he tacks on a bigger disclaimer.

Sure, there is too much energy spent on “big budget” pictures. That was as true in 1970 as in 1990. But Disney--and every other major player--has several very expensive pictures in the works and has no intention of abandoning them.

Sure, the effort to get big-name stars burns too many calories at too many industry meetings. But here, too, Disney admits that it will continue to court such folks as “Bill Murray, Dustin Hoffman and Sylvester Stallone . . . in a way that works both for them and for us.”

Yes, a good story is what audiences say they want and studio executives dream about. So why do we leave so many theaters shaking our heads, asking, “What could they have been thinking when they made that?”

Katzenberg offers some Band-Aids to the hemorrhaging patient.

He wants to develop more ideas within the walls of the studio, rather than paying high “auction block” prices for “hot” screenplays developed and written by, of all people, writers.

Well, writers are hardly the cause of this problem, but a word of advice to those upset with the auctions: Before bidding, read the screenplay.

He wants to find new talent or revive old careers. How can any rational person argue with that? But then he wants to sign that talent to long-term contracts, undercutting the whole premise.

Katzenberg should be applauded at least for putting on paper these familiar thoughts. And he can be forgiven his contradictions. Hollywood is a confusing place in which to dwell.

It’s hard to work in an environment where the first reaction to nearly every idea is, “No. We’ve seen that before,” and the second is to demand, “What’s it like that we’ve seen before?”

It’s hard to traffic in ideas that have to be reduced to one sentence: “Guy turns into cockroach.” “Guy chases white whale.” If you only have five seconds, any idea can fit.

It’s confusing to make a living in a business that thinks arrogance and eccentricity are brilliance.

When I was a development executive, I called an agent on behalf of a newspaper reporter friend of mine. The friend was developing a made-for-television screenplay based on a series of grisly murders he had covered.

When I told the agent about it, he said, “That’s the kind of repulsive, disgusting stuff that ruins this business.” I apologized for offending his sensibilities. “Have your friend call me anyway,” the agent said.

It does get confusing. And the confusion can get in the way of the magic.

So, while Katzenberg is right, he’s in the wrong place to initiate the core changes he talks about.

It’s no surprise that “Troop Beverly Hills” sprang from entrenched Hollywood thinking, while “sex, lies and videotape” came from a writer living in Louisiana.

Real reform in the entertainment industry will come from people who do not spend their every waking minute trying to get a deal at a studio or “work the town,” but rather who labor often obscurely on their own particular visions.

Until they hit it big. Then, of course, it can get confusing.