Between a Rock and a Reiner Stand a Few Other Guys : The director teamed with four friends to form the highly regarded Castle Rock Entertainment. Their ‘A Few Good Men’ looks like a sure winner--but, then again, so did ‘Mr. Saturday Night’

We’ve weathered two big disasters for us this year, financially--”Year of the Comet ‘ ‘ and “Mr. Saturday Night.” If “A Few Good Men” didn’t do well, we’d be in trouble, we’d be in big trouble.

--Rob Reiner, co-partner, Castle Rock Entertainment

Imagine having to defend making a film that stars three of Hollywood’s biggest actors: Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson and Demi Moore. Huge names who earn huge bucks in huge pictures. So, why is Rob Reiner, the director of “A Few Good Men,” which features the three actors, sounding so defensive?

“I don’t understand it,” he grouses. “To me, where are movie stars supposed to be if not in the movie? That’s what they do! Movie stars are supposed to be in movies! It used to be fun for an audience to say, ‘Hey, Jimmy Stewart and Burt Lancaster or Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster are in the movie. Wow! That’s fun!’ Now, it seems that most of the press will say, ‘Hey, how come you got stars in the movie? You shouldn’t have them.’ (But) where are they gonna go if they don’t go in a movie?”

If Reiner sounds like a filmmaker growing increasingly nervous as the premiere of his $40-million picture draws near, he probably shouldn’t be. For weeks, the buzz in Hollywood has been that the military courtroom drama by screenwriter Aaron Sorkin is a lock come Oscar nomination time for best picture, one or more acting categories, and very likely director. And everyone believes that it will be big at the box office. Sure, courtroom dramas often don’t draw large audiences, but this one can’t bomb--can it?

At Castle Rock Entertainment--the 60-employee company that Reiner and four of his friends founded in 1987--each picture is a gamble, some more than others. But Reiner concedes, string together three or more box-office bombs and Castle Rock, whose logo is a tiny lighthouse, could be bracing for rough seas.

And so the question comes back to Reiner. Does having all these stars in “A Few Good Men” minimize your financial risk?

“I wouldn’t cast a person in the movie just because they were a star,” he said emphatically. “I’d cast them for the part. Luckily, we’ve got three terrific actors who are all suited for their parts, not to mention Kiefer Sutherland and Kevin Bacon.”

The defense rests.

Director Andrew Bergman and producer Mike Lobell recall the day they met with Castle Rock’s partners to discuss a spec script called “Honeymoon in Vegas.”

Bergman and Lobell dreaded such meetings with companies they didn’t know. It was always us-against-them, studio-vs.-filmmaker, long, asinine sessions with “business affairs guys.” The bell rang and fighters came out swinging.

So, Bergman and Lobell arrived for their meeting at Castle Rock like condemned men walking to the gallows. The director and the producer taped on the gloves once more, waiting for a sucker punch that never came.

To their surprise, the meeting focused largely on the script. Intriguing premise, they were told. Good writing. Could be a great movie. There were no complicated discussions of star packaging, back-end deals and foreign rights. No pretension. No lies. The men of Castle Rock wanted to talk about the story. Bergman and Lobell looked at each other as if to say, is this a joke?

The deal closed in half an hour. “I wish I had met these guys 10 years ago,” Lobell said. “I’d have less gray hair.”

The fact is, the film community loves Castle Rock. Loves the movies it makes. Loves the relationships it cements with talent. Loves the laid-back management style. And especially loves the way the five men who run things--Reiner, Alan Horn, Martin Shafer, Glenn Padnick and Andy Scheinman--speak with one voice. Although the company has released only 10 films (including “A Few Good Men”) in 5 1/2 years, there is something special about this partnership that earns the town’s admiration.

Bob Bookman, an agent at Creative Artists Agency, calls Castle Rock a “boutique in the most tony sense of the word.”

“You only go there for certain kinds of wares,” Bookman said, “but in what they do, they are the best of their kind.”

Columbia Pictures Chairman Mark Canton, whose Sony-owned studio distributes Castle Rock films, said Columbia is so pleased with the product to date that they hope to have a “long-term relationship” with Reiner and his partners.

“I think Castle Rock is the greatest small independent company in the motion-picture industry today based on the quality of pictures they do and . . . their success on a consistent basis,” Canton said.

United Talent Agency partner James Berkus observes that the people at Castle Rock are interested in making good movies, not just “ego-related deals.”

“I think, on balance, they pick good material and have great respect for talent,” Berkus said. “They are very easy to deal with. They are very honest.”

In 1989, Castle Rock made its debut with a bang. Reiner had directed a witty romantic comedy starring Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan called “When Harry Met Sally. . . .” The movie cost about $18 million to make and to date has grossed approximately $93 million.

The next year Castle Rock increased its output to three films. Reiner’s “Misery,” a Stephen King thriller that starred James Caan and Kathy Bates (Bates’ performance earned an Oscar for best actress), brought in $63 million. Two other movies were more modest in their box-office appeal: “Sibling Rivalry,” which cost about $14 million, has grossed $20 million and “Lord of the Flies,” which cost $7 million, has grossed approximately $15 million.

In 1991, Castle Rock’s fortunes soared again when Crystal’s dude-ranch comedy “City Slickers”--which cost $26 million to $28 million to make--brought in $123 million, as well as earning Jack Palance an Oscar for best supporting actor.

The other Castle Rock film that year--”Late for Dinner”--brought in “under $10 million,” according to company spokesmen.

When this year’s figures are in, Castle Rock will likely have two hits and two misses. The $23 million “Honeymoon in Vegas” has grossed approximately $35 million so far, and everyone expects “A Few Good Men” to do well. On the other hand, “Mr. Saturday Night,” which cost $28 million, brought in only $15 million, and “Year of the Comet” soared past the theater turnstiles and into deep space with under $5 million in ticket sales.

Still, most filmmakers would kill for Castle Rock’s batting average. How Castle Rock has achieved this ratio of hits-to-bombs is still something of a mystery. The partners believe that their success has roots in their love of the written word.

Indeed, script development is such a top priority, Shafer said, that an untitled thriller starring Alec Baldwin, Nicole Kidman and Bill Pullman now filming “probably went through 25 drafts in five years” because of the intricate plot twists.

Other keys to success include the fact that Castle Rock has forged strong relationships with actors like Crystal, Cruise and Nicolas Cage and writers like Sorkin, Nora Ephron (“When Harry Met Sally. . . .”), William Goldman and Stephen King, who sends his work to Castle Rock for a first look. And, the company has maintained quality control by releasing only a handful of films each year, mainstream commercial projects with small, medium and large budgets.

Horn said other independents got into trouble by allowing their budgets to skyrocket out of control. You won’t see a corporate jet at Castle Rock, he pointed out.

But Castle Rock is not afraid to spend money when it believes in the film.

The 1993 lineup, for instance, includes “In the Line of Fire,” a $38-million action film starring Clint Eastwood, John Malkovich and Renee Russo. And, in April, Reiner begins directing “North,” a $35-million movie about a boy named North who feels so disenfranchised by his parents that he files for free agency to get new ones.

Many admire the partners’ ability to bury their egos and maintain a free-form management style (one formal meeting a month and dozens of informal ones every day) that avoids the pitfalls of a hierarchical studio system.

Horn, the 49-year-old Harvard-educated son of a Queens, N.Y., bartender, is the financial brains and father figure of the outfit. He carries the title of managing partner so that bankers and investors know who to call about money matters. Shafer, 38, who evinces an Ivy League look in his stylishly round glasses, is the man who juggles all the movie projects in his head and helps guide them from script to screen. The 45-year-old Padnick, who attended Harvard Law School, does the same in television. Scheinman, a 44-year-old ex-tennis standout with a Joel Grey smile, is the script doctor who can rescue a scene, insert dialogue or just relieve tensions with a joke.

And then there is Reiner, 45, still at heart the outspoken liberal Michael (Meathead) Stivic character who dueled constantly with Archie Bunker in the classic sitcom “All in the Family.”

In a recent interview, for example, Reiner munched on a bag of mini-popcorn rice cakes and let fly with opinions when the issue of family values was brought up.

“This kind of sanctimonious crap that all these Republicans running around, right wing, Moral Majority--these people are (expletive deleted) destroying the country . . . they get these people twisted around with ideas about what morality should be. How about just be decent to the other guy! You know, if they really believed in anything, if they really believed in what they were preaching, and they really believed in what Jesus Christ said, they wouldn’t be promoting family values! As long as you’re decent to other people and you treat them honestly and decently and with respect and with love, what the hell is the difference what you do?”

Because of his fame, stories have in the past referred to Castle Rock as “Rob Reiner’s company.” That is not accurate. There are five equal voices. Still, each partner knows that Reiner has reached such stature as a director (“Stand by Me,” “The Princess Bride,” “When Harry Met Sally. . . .,” “Misery”) that he can make any movie he wants and they will not vote him down. Even Reiner recognizes his leverage.

“It’s an equal partnership except when it’s a film that I want to make,” he tells a visitor. “Then I have more votes. Basically, I get to do what I want to do at this stage.”

“The feeling is, if Rob wants to do it, he has more than earned his right to do anything he wants,” Shafer said. “But Rob being Rob is interested in hearing what we think about it. We could conceivably override him, but it would never happen.”

Four of the partners came from the world of television. Horn had worked at Norman Lear’s Tandem Productions (later Embassy Communications), where he met Reiner and then Padnick and Shafer.

That’s the short, official story. Unofficially, the relationships began forming in the 1970s at the Hollywood Indoor Tennis Club, when Jimmy Connors and Martina Navratilova dazzled courtsiders and Reiner took up the game. One of those he met was a terrific player named Andy Scheinman.

Scheinman had received his law degree from the University of Virginia but never intended to practice anything but tennis. One day, Scheinman tossed six rackets in his car and headed west, eventually winding up at the Hollywood Indoor Tennis Club, where he met Reiner. “You know,” Reiner told him, “you’re the funniest person who doesn’t get paid for it.”

Shafer, a Southwestern University School of Los Angeles graduate, meanwhile, was also playing tennis, usually with actor Charlton Heston, whose son had gone to school with Shafer. One day, Shafer asked Scheinman if he might be interested in making movies with him and Heston. The two young men found that with Heston’s clout they could get a foot in almost any door in Hollywood. They were involved in three films with the actor (“Mother Lode,” “The Awakening” and “The Mountain Men”) as well as “Modern Romance” with Albert Brooks.

Scheinman met Brooks through Reiner. The tennis player had lost his keys one day and asked Reiner to drive him home. On the way, Scheinman asked Reiner if he had ever heard of Brooks, who was a young comedian he admired. Sure, Reiner said, Brooks was the best man at his wedding.

For two years, Scheinman hung out “six or seven nights a week” at Reiner and Penny Marshall’s house on Hesby Street in the San Fernando Valley. The informality enjoyed today at Castle Rock, where the partners enter and leave each other’s offices without knocking, can perhaps can be traced back to how things were at that house.

“It was almost like a fraternity house,” Scheinman recalled. “Albert Brooks was there every day. Jim Brooks was there a lot. And you didn’t even call or knock on the door. You just opened the door. Sometimes Rob and Penny weren’t there. I’d come in there and Albert would have his head in the refrigerator and someone else would be watching TV. But we were all in our 20s. We all went to college in the ‘60s, so it was a very free and open kind of approach to things.”

In 1984, Reiner made his directing debut with the now-cult classic “This Is Spinal Tap.” Although Scheinman did not work on that project, he assisted Reiner on each of his subsequent films.

Horn became president of 20th Century Fox Film Corp., but left after a year. “I wasn’t comfortable there,” he said. “I didn’t have the creative autonomy and control that I thought I would have.”

By January of 1987, Horn was working at his home on a plan to create a company, while Reiner and Scheinman were finishing up a revisionist fairy tale/adventure film called “The Princess Bride” by screenwriter William Goldman. The film didn’t do well, despite a great response at screenings. Shafer believed that the people at Fox, which released the film, didn’t understand how to market it.

So, the partners took the plunge.

“We started in July of 1987,” Horn explained. “We were not funded. I funded the company until October of ’87. It was a little under $1 million. That was returned to me when we were funded. That enabled us to put together a company, start hiring some people, start getting some writers going, get officers. So, we just kicked it in right off. The first project was ‘When Harry Met Sally. . . .’ (It) was a very big success.”

Ironically, the partners expected to see their big profits come from television, not feature films. But today, with the TV market dramatically changed, Castle Rock sees films as the big moneymakers. The partnership currently produces “Seinfeld” on NBC.

How is Castle Rock organized?

“There is a group called Main Street Partners, which is a partnership of five sub-Chapter S corporations, which, in turn, is partnered with a division of Sony Pictures Entertainment to form Castle Rock Entertainment,” Horn explained in language only a Harvard MBA, of which he is one, would understand.

Sony owns 44% of Castle Rock, Horn added, while Westinghouse owns another “13% to 14%.”

Last September, Castle Rock obtained a $100-million bank credit line from a number of financial institutions led by Chemical Bank.

Horn would not get into the specifics of the deal his company struck with Columbia to make “A Few Good Men,” except to concede that when the project was approved, Castle Rock lacked the wherewithal to fully finance such a big project.

“Now, strangely enough, it’s such a good movie that there is no question the company would have been better off if it had been able to finance 100% of the negative costs of that movie and sort of rolled the dice and taken our chances,” he said. “But what do you do?”

Knowing the pitfalls encountered by other independent filmmakers, Castle Rock’s deal with Columbia gives the Culver City studio the right to distribute the films, but Castle Rock has sole responsibility for greenlighting, filming, post-production and marketing.

If a movie fails, Castle Rock takes the blame.

Take the case of “Mr. Saturday Night.”

If you talk to the partners today, they will tell you uniformly that the film about the life and times of stand-up comic Buddy Young Jr. was a tour de force by Billy Crystal that should have succeeded at the box office but, for whatever reason, didn’t.

“It hurts us terribly from a financial standpoint, but we love the film,” Reiner said of the film, which was released in September. “We think there are Academy Award-winning performances in it.”

But in Hollywood, there was talk that Castle Rock had let arrogance born of past achievements cloud its thinking. Given the power to create the advertising for all its films, Castle Rock’s ads depicted Crystal as a less-than-appealing cantankerous old man with a cigar.

“They (Castle Rock) represented the movie faithfully, but that’s not called sales, that’s called representing the movie faithfully,” said one industry source. “If you show an old man in latex doing stand-up in the Catskills, rather than the (youthful) way Billy Crystal looked in ‘City Slickers,’ you’re dead and they were. There is a reason movie stars are young and glorious. People want that.”

Reiner bristles at such criticism.

“It’s the most blown-up story I’ve ever heard,” he said. “It was a poster. Billy had a cigar in the poster and they didn’t want him to have a cigar. They thought it would be more youthful without the cigar. (But) there is no getting around it--in 60% of the film, he’s an old guy. That’s what he is.”

Shafer said one of the problems was that some of Crystal’s best dialogue was too racy for the TV spots. “We couldn’t show people how funny it was,” he lamented.

In retrospect, it was a little odd at how Castle Rock came to discover “A Few Good Men.” The partners were scouting around for a writer to do another film and, in the process, a writing sample from a play by Aaron Sorkin arrived.

“We read it and said, ‘This is really well written,”’ recalled Shafer. He said Sorkin was hired for the other project but, in the meantime, Castle Rock found that TriStar had the film rights to the Broadway play “A Few Good Men” and eventually acquired the rights.

“Rob had never heard of the project at that time,” Shafer said. “I said to Rob, ‘You should see this play.” So Reiner flew to New York and left the theater not only wanting to make the film, but he wanted Tom Cruise for the lead role.

Then, for the first time in his career as a director, Reiner found that his past successes enabled him to land his first choices--not only Cruise, but Nicholson, Moore, Sutherland, Bacon and Kevin Pollak.

Reiner, admittedly, was nervous directing such a high-powered ensemble. “I thought, ‘You’ve got a lot of big stars and there could be a lot of ego problems. How is this going to shake out?’ ” But the real problem, he soon discovered, was the United States Marine Corps.

Reiner wanted to use the Marines’ silent drill team in the movie, but was rebuffed.

To argue his case, he was invited into a big room at the Pentagon annex, where an assistant to the Marine Corps commandant, a brigadier general and “a couple of colonels” listened patiently. No, they told him, the Marine Corps was not interested in providing technical assistance.

“I think they had a very parochial view of things,” Reiner recalled. “They look at a picture and think, ‘Is this a picture that recruits Marines?’ They saw two bad guys being Marines. They didn’t care about the fact that the judge was a Marine and the prosecuting attorney, who was a great guy, was a Marine. They just looked at Nicholson and the Kiefer Sutherland character and thought, ‘Oh, they’re bad guys.’ ”

At the meeting, Reiner launched into an impassioned plea. He told the officers they had a very small view of the film, that this was not an indictment of the Marine Corps, it was a celebration of the military justice system.

Finally, in frustration, Reiner told them: “Boy, you must think very little of your organization if you think this film is going to keep people from joining the Marines.”

Reiner said one of the arguments advanced by the Marines was that Nicholson’s character (Col. Nathan R. Jessep) was so flawed there was no way he could rise to the rank of colonel in the Marine Corps.

Reiner said he found it ironic that on the day he left his meeting with the Marine Corps, the front page of the Washington Post carried a story on a real-life controversial Marine colonel--Oliver North.

So, Reiner found a substitute for the Marines: the silent drill team of Texas A & M University.

The major themes of the film were powerful enough, but Reiner said there was something else that tugged at his emotions besides the age-old issue of whether soldiers should follow orders or their own conscience. This was not, Reiner felt, just a story about two young Marines who stand accused of murdering a member of their platoon during an unsanctioned disciplinary action known as a “Code Red.”

In “Stand by Me,” Reiner identified with the depressed kid who didn’t feel good about himself. Likewise, “When Harry Met Sally. . . .” evolved from Reiner’s idea that men and women can’t really be friends without becoming lovers, and if they do, that spoils the friendship.

Reiner now saw parallels in his own life and that of Cruise’s character (Lt. (j.g.) Daniel Kaffee) in “A Few Good Men.”

“What was hinted at in the play, and we brought out in the more in the film, was Kaffee’s personal struggle vis-a-vis his father and finding his own niche, given the fact that his father was famous,” Reiner said. “That’s something I can relate to.”

In “A Few Good Men,” Reiner said the scene that affected him the most occurs when Kaffee loses a key witness and one of the defendants botches his testimony on the stand. It’s raining at night when Kaffee arrives home drunk and ready to give up. A member of Kaffee’s defense team, Lt. Sam Weinberg (Pollak), is seated alone with him.

“And he says, ‘Is your father proud of you?’ ” Reiner says. “ ‘Don’t do this to yourself. I bet he is.’ That scene is the strongest scene in the picture to me, the one that is the most emotional for me. To me, it was very hard because I was trying to live up to (Carl Reiner). As a young person growing up, I idolized him. He was like a god to me. Not only was he incredibly talented and successful and unbelievably accepted by his peers and his audience, but he’s a nice guy. A very sweet man. People loved him. . . . I thought, ‘I’ll never measure up to this.’ It was tough. . . .

“Still today, people will call me Carl,” the director said. “ ‘Hey, Carl!’ It doesn’t bother me anymore. It used to bother me. I’d go, ‘Hey, I’m Rob! You should be able to make the distinction more!’ ”