Michael Lynton’s Brief Film Career

Two years ago, Michael Lynton parachuted into Hollywood without a survival kit. The Harvard-educated executive--who had helped launch Disney’s New York book and magazine publishing unit, Hyperion--was suddenly plucked from the literary ranks to come run the company’s troubled movie banner, Hollywood Pictures.

It was the first time anyone in the industry could remember that an outsider had landed on these treacherous shores anointed the head of a studio film label. Senior executives typically rise up through the ranks after years of paying dues.

By virtue of the fact that he landed such a lofty job at such an important studio, Lynton had instant clout.

But, as he would come to find out, that by no means made him an instant player.

A number of key industry figures--among them talent agents such as International Creative Management President Jim Wiatt and William Morris Agency motion picture chief Arnold Rifkin--extended their hands, clients and material to help Lynton learn the business. But ultimately, Lynton--who had never read a script before coming to Hollywood--remained somewhat of an outsider.

“He’s a wonderful guy, but I don’t think this town embraced him,” Wiatt said. “He came in without credentials . . , and it takes a long time to have relationships.”

This week, Lynton, 37, accepted a prestigious job as head of publishing house Penguin Group, which will send him back to the New York literary world. The move came after Disney’s decision to phase out Hollywood Pictures as part of a long-term plan to cut back on the number of movies the studio will produce.

Neither the closing down of Hollywood Pictures as a production entity nor Lynton’s departure was precipitated by his performance as a movie executive. Though he can’t claim credit for green-lighting any movies, he did oversee a small number of hits at the movie unit, including Simpson/Bruckheimer’s “The Rock,” “Crimson Tide” and “Dangerous Minds,” Interscope’s “Mr. Holland’s Opus” and Caravan’s “While You Were Sleeping.”

It can be argued, however, that he might have become a more dynamic executive had he had additional years of seasoning, more time to cultivate more meaningful and more diverse relationships with Hollywood’s talent A list, and further insight into how it all works.

Although he did have some detractors who found him to be an intellectual snob, in his short stint here Lynton was generally well liked and respected as a smart, literary executive who had good taste, was straightforward and trustworthy. But even those who spoke highly of him said he never really understood the rhythms or nuances of the business they have spent years working in.

“He had no idea what the rituals were or the process by which he could meet people,” said one producer. “He was more concerned about budgets and policy than he was about getting people endeared to him.”

A colleague of his at Disney added: “You develop ties and bonds and know who’s going to support you and who’s going to abandon you. If there’s no history, positive or negative, with the important players in the business, it’s impossible.”

The criticisms notwithstanding, Lynton--a self-described cynic--isn’t at all bitter about his two years here. In fact, he says he doesn’t think Hollywood deserves the bum rap it often gets.

“I don’t mean to be Pollyannaish about it, but I didn’t have a bad experience here,” he said almost apologetically in an interview this week. “I never got badly sideswiped . . . never burned.”

He said he was “surprised at how much I liked the people here” and noted that he had made some good friends along the way.

Lynton also suggested that he found many of the stereotypes about Hollywood to be simply not true. “There’s a general notion that people are sitting around their pools taking calls, but as far as I’ve seen, people work really hard here.”

Debunking the notion that many people are just in the business for the glamour, glitter and power, Lynton says, “It is a business where people feel passionate about what they do and the movies they make.”

The rap that “it’s just another packaged-goods business is baloney,” he adds. “It is a deeply creative business in the development process, in putting movies together and on the marketing side.”

Lynton also pours water on writer William Goldman’s famous adage, “Nobody knows anything,” insisting: “There are people who really know their stuff, are good at it and are a pleasure to work with.”

A cynic might say Lynton is sugarcoating his impressions to avoid burning bridges. After all, one never knows when he or she might land back in Hollywood. “I never thought I’d work here in the first place,” admits Lynton, who was recruited to the studio job by former Disney movie executive David Hoberman.

Lynton says that as good an experience as he had here, he was not seduced by Hollywood, nor did he spend his time schmoozing or playing “the game” per se.

Sure, he “did lunch” with the right people, but he didn’t indulge in the night life by attending premieres, throwing dinner parties or dining at Morton’s on Monday nights.

Some industry insiders say that didn’t serve him well.

“He kept his family utterly private and that whole side of his life separate,” said one executive. “He was never part of the social order here. And that was a mistake. He needed to go to the watering holes we go to. He didn’t, and he paid the price.”

Lynton makes no apologies for being true to who he is.

“It was never my style to do that, in this business or the business I came from,” he said. “I never rented a house in the Hamptons.” And Lynton, who is married to television executive Jamie Alter, the West Coast bureau chief for Court TV, with whom he has a toddler and a new baby, said he made a conscious choice to balance his personal and professional lives.

Some would say Lynton was just plain naive when it came to Hollywood etiquette.

An industry source said that one Friday night Lynton and his wife were invited to a producer’s house for a barbecue. Because he assumed it would be a casual family affair in the backyard, he called and asked if it was OK to bring the kid, for whom there was no baby sitter that night. He was told it was fine, but when they arrived, he was shocked to find the event was in fact a sit-down business dinner with another producer couple and a powerful entertainment lawyer and his wife. Lynton felt he had really blown it when he and his wife had to leave before the meal was served because their child was crying.

Asked if he found Hollywood clubby, political and ego-driven, Lynton said, “No more so than the book and magazine world.”

Lynton, who was an investment banker before he embarked on a publishing career, admits that it was tough to for him to fit in because “it took me a long time to figure out who was who, know who the various cliques were, the long-standing relationships, the long-standing dislikes and the etiquette of the parties.”

Does he think that hurt him? “Obviously it was a disadvantage. It definitely played against me.”

Nonetheless, Lynton argues that his inexperience never stood in the way of his getting access to “every piece of material I wanted” when it came to the submission of books, scripts and pitches that made the rounds to competing studios.

Among the projects he set up, Lynton outbid several industry heavyweights for film rights to Nicholas Evans’ unfinished manuscript “The Horse Whisperer.” The studio paid $3 million for the project, to which Robert Redford is attached to star, direct and produce.

Assessing his performance as a movie executive, Lynton said: “Overall, I’m pretty satisfied that the movies I oversaw came in on budget and performed well enough to make the studio very profitable.”

Asked whether he’ll miss this place, Lynton quipped: “I’ll miss the glamour, though I never could find that Hollywood party.”