The Year of a Humbled Hollywood

En route to the academy’s annual nominee luncheon last week, “Gladiator” producer Doug Wick was surprised to hear his driver turn and ask, “If there is a strike, what will that do to the limo business?”

“Then one of the other nominees at the table said their driver had brought up the same subject,” recalls Wick, whose film is up for best picture. “Everyone was talking about the same slowdown in the business, although the people in the post-production side of the business--editors, sound people--got to walk a lot taller, because they won’t feel any impact from a strike for almost a year.”

While nominees jet from award show to award show, the mood for the rest of Hollywood remains glum. Indeed, for those not directly involved in the festivities, the hubbub of the Oscar season sounds much like the band playing as the Titanic went down, so palpable is the sense of foreboding that has begun to circle the industry. They must not only contend with strike woes, but with the uncertain impact of mega-mergers such as Time Warner-AOL and Universal-Vivendi, and the recent stock market collapse.

“It doesn’t seem to me that the Oscars are on the tip of everybody’s tongue as usual,” says Academy Award-winning producer Mark Johnson, who is trying to finish four films before the strike deadline. “The town is definitely slowing down. The apocalyptic thinking is that if you don’t have a job now, you might not have a job for the entire year.”

Says William Morris agent John Fogelman: “The Oscars have been eclipsed by the strike. People aren’t talking about something ceremonious when they’re afraid their friend’s going to lose his house. This is not a time to celebrate. This is a very sobering moment.”

Indeed, although the possible writers’ strike wouldn’t begin until May 2, and the actors’ strike not until two months later, the potential labor unrest has cast a shadow of worry over Hollywood’s annual season of self-congratulation. “It reminds me how the people in the ‘Little House on the Prairie’ books talk about the snowstorm, with that slight anxiety over how disruptive it might be,” says “Gladiator’s” Wick.

Instead of merely fielding queries about their designer togs, actors walking the red carpet to the various guild and critic award ceremonies have been peppered with questions from reporters about the brewing labor turmoil. Guests at the Writers Guild of America dinner were greeted with tiny WGA buttons with tags declaring “in solidarity,” as well as a half-hour speech from guild President John Wells about the breakdown of early negotiations between the writers and studios. At the Directors Guild of America and Screen Actors Guild Awards, respective guild presidents Jack Shea and William Daniels made similar, albeit briefer, remarks.

“It’s fascinating, there’s so much excitement about the Oscars, but virtually everyone you talk to is terrified about the potential strike,” says producer Dan Jinks, who won an Oscar last year for producing “American Beauty.” “It’s difficult to have a conversation that doesn’t involve the strike.

“Any producer who has a deal--that deal could be in jeopardy,” adds Jinks, noting the widespread fear that the studios will use the opportunity of the strike to ax deals. “You worry about not only yourself but your employees.”

To publicist Catherine Olim, who represents Oscar host Steve Martin and best actor nominee Ed Harris, there’s a “sense of urgency in the town. Everyone is incredibly busy, not just because of the Oscars. Actors are shooting films back-to-back in case there’s a strike.”

Other factors as well are tamping down the normal pre-Oscar giddiness. Although some applaud the wide-open nature of many of the races, the lack of a heavy favorite--”Gladiator” is thought to be the leading contender, but by no means a shoo-in--seems to have dampened the rooting interest in any one film. Unlike past years, there is no tidal wave of industry support coalescing around pictures as it did for films such as “Titanic” or last year’s best picture winner, “American Beauty.”

Some critics have even questioned whether this crop of nominees merits their accolades.

“A lot of people feel that the movies are not exciting,” says Tom Bernard, co-president of Sony Pictures Classics, which released best picture nominee “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.” He clearly disagrees. “The fact is that four of the five films will have grossed $100 million before the Oscars. I don’t think you can go back to a year like that. It’s a really positive thing that they’re now picking movies that are artistic and successful. Usually the film needs an Oscar to get wider recognition, like ‘Driving Miss Daisy.’ ”

A Sobering Shift by Party Planners

Hollywood’s grimmer mood is also reflected in the dearth of Oscar parties, as several of the major studios have opted to forgo throwing the traditionally lavish soirees. Last year in honor of “American Beauty,” DreamWorks strung thousands of red roses from the roof of Spago and gave “Today” show co-host Matt Lauer prime access at the door to interview celebrities. This year, its best picture contender, “Gladiator,” is already out on video, blunting the publicity boon of an Oscar. The studio has decided instead to hold a small, non-publicized fete on Oscar eve, a time when all the nominees--which include Joan Allen for its film “The Contender”--are still potential winners.

“We couldn’t be more excited about this year’s Oscars,” says DreamWorks spokesman Chip Sullivan. “We’ve just opted to celebrate all our nominees the night before.”

For almost a decade, the Miramax post-Oscar party, held first at the Mondrian Hotel and later at the Beverly Hills Hotel, was a key late-night destination for the young and hip. Yet the studio, which has been criticized in the media for its lavish spending on the Oscar campaign for “Chocolat,” is curtailing this annual rite. The reason, says Marcy Granata, president of Miramax publicity, is simply a bow to the realities of Oscar-night protocol.

Partygoers, she notes, often don’t reach their own studio parties until after de rigueur stops at the Governors Ball and the Vanity Fair event.

“All the parties seem to be getting more and more truncated. You have very little time to rush from one to the next,” says Granata. The studio is concentrating its festivity efforts instead on an intimate, off-the-record, Saturday night pre-Oscar bash, which features skits and parodies of the year’s films.

“Maybe Miramax doesn’t think it’s going to win,” jokes Sony Classics’ Bernard, whose “Crouching Tiger” is perhaps the Oscar nominee that evokes the strongest fervor among its partisans. Sony Classics and its parent, Sony, are among the few studios giving a traditional Oscar-night bash.

“The funny thing about it is that we’ve never had a party,” says Bernard. “Everybody said you have to have a party, so we decided to have a party because it was something we were supposed to do. Then we find out that nobody’s having parties! Yet there are so many people involved in this movie coming from around the world--from Taiwan, Hong Kong, New York--we felt this would be some kind of event to help them celebrate.”

While Oscar nominees will undoubtedly enjoy their moment in the limelight, the town’s hoi polloi continue to fret. The Los Angeles County Economic Development Corp. estimates that a strike would cost $250 million a week in direct economic impact to the region, with another $250 million indirectly, on the restaurants, dry-cleaners and florists who service the industry. Already, some note, power restaurants such as the Palm seem lighter at lunch as agents and executives have begun to delay putting together films until after the strike issues are resolved.

Johnson notes wryly: “You keep hearing about studios and agencies cutting back on messenger service. It has to be really important to go by messenger, otherwise it’s Postal Service.”

Fear in Hollywood Over Reduced Role

Indeed, the mood is such that almost any event--from the departure of longtime New Line executive Mike De Luca, to a recent spate of firings at Sony, to the string of bankruptcies among exhibitors--portends a diminished Hollywood.

“People are petrified. I’ve never seen anything like it in 25 years,” says Howard Rosenman, who produced last year’s “Family Man.”

“I think we’re at a time when no one knows what’s happening with the convergence of the methods of distribution, with the technology. We’ve seen the end of the hegemony of CAA [Creative Artists Agency], which once strode through this industry like a colossus. Now that the field is level, it brings up the air of uncertainty.”

The fact that a billion people worldwide will watch the Oscars doesn’t bring much solace to the select few who actually make movies.

“Twenty percent of the revenue comes from the American markets. We have to begin to cater to the rest of the world,” sighs Rosenman. “The control of the business is out of the hands of the short Jewish men from Brooklyn. That’s scary.”