Ovitz found an ‘open ear,’ and more

Editor’s note: Rachel Abramowitz will be periodically checking in on the trial of Anthony Pellicano -- former private eye to the stars, who faces 79 counts of racketeering, wiretapping, conspiracy and other federal charges -- and writing about what the case means to Hollywood.

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Each day the trial goes on, it becomes clearer that Anthony Pellicano was Hollywood’s favorite rage-aholic enabler. Got a grudge? Call Pellicano. Want to destroy a former wife? Call Pellicano. Feeling hostile? Call Pellicano.

Last week the government provided a textbook example on how it all allegedly worked. A mogul in career distress becomes convinced that his enemies are seeding negative stories about him in the press. In a tantrum of paranoia, he calls in attack dog Pellicano, who, prosecutors say, proceeds to destroy the life of the journalist, who was just doing her job, writing about a public figure. All of Hollywood was titillated, because the mogul in question was Michael Ovitz, the town’s favorite bogeyman, onetime super agent. Back in 2002, Ovitz was reeling from his embarrassing tenure as the president of Disney and trying to save his fledging management-production-TV company, Artists Management Group. In public perception, he was rapidly becoming the Wizard of Oz -- all bluster and no beef. Ovitz didn’t like being mocked by his competitors, as he explained on the stand last Wednesday.

Dressed in a blue suit and glasses, Ovitz was the very portrait of an upstanding businessman. The problem was with what he actually said. According to his testimony, Ovitz himself had nothing to do with the implosions of his business. It was a cruel and untrue whispering campaign, and ultimately press stories caused the roof to cave in and made investors wary about riding to the rescue of his enterprise or, alternatively, just buying the company.

“It was an extraordinarily difficult time for the company and for me. . . . We were in a consistent state of negative press . . . filled with innuendo that we were in ruins which wasn’t true,” he testified, adding that the stories were all “wildly embarrassing to me and my family.”

“All I wanted,” he continued plaintively, “was a graceful exit from the business and to leave my people with jobs.” It sounds like a noble enough agenda, which is why he felt compelled to call Anthony Pellicano on April 11, 2002, right after the New York Times published a story that comedian Robin Williams had fired Ovitz’s firm, AMG.

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Hollywood paranoia

Cut to the audiotape. The prosecutors happened to have a recording of this very call. Curiously enough, Ovitz told Pellicano’s secretary that it was a “Michael” on the line who had information about Anthony’s children. The Pelican picked right up, but then appeared surprised by Ovitz’s cloak-and-dagger routine. (Though perhaps no one who’d worked for Ovitz at Creative Artists Agency would have blinked an eye; Ovitz, according to one former CAA employee, often started phone calls intoning, “Are we on a hard line?”) Still, with his unerring ability to cozy up to the rich, Pellicano recovered, assuring Ovitz, “My friend Bert Fields loves you -- I love you.”

What did Ovitz want? Dirt. Nasty embarrassing information about Hollywood journalists Bernard Weinraub and Anita Busch, who’d written a series of articles critical of Ovitz in the New York Times. “I wanted all kinds of information. I had no one feeding me information,” he said. Why Pellicano? He, according to Ovitz, moved in the right circles -- “he talked to the same people sourcing the press.” Like many of Pellicano’s wealthiest clients, Ovitz hasn’t been charged with anything, and said on the stand that he never asked Pellicano to do anything illegal, and knew nothing about Pellicano’s alleged misdeeds.

Defense attorney Chad Hummel tried to plumb the depths of Ovitz’s paranoia, pressing the onetime mogul, until Ovitz finally admitted that two of his enemies were billionaire David Geffen and his former CAA colleague, Universal chieftain Ron Meyer. Why did Ovitz think they were sourcing the stories?

“I don’t know how to articulate it,” Ovitz testified, though Ovitz gave a fuller diatribe against Geffen and Meyer in the infamous interview he gave to Vanity Fair in 2002, right around the time he was employing Pellicano. Prodded by Hummel, Ovitz explained why he wanted Pellicano. “I wanted to know when I was going to be ambushed, when the next shoe was going to drop.” He added that he’d pay Pellicano whatever he wanted, if he “could fix my relationship with Ron Meyer.”

Ovitz admitted that even Pellicano couldn’t budge Meyer, but he was still happy with the gumshoe’s work, for which he paid him $75,000 in cash. He also added that in the dark night of his soul, when he’d been abandoned by his Hollywood friends, one man was there for him: Pellicano. “When a lot of people abandoned ship, he didn’t,” said Ovitz, who admitted to pouring his heart out to Pellicano. “He was always an open ear.”

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Reliving terror

Ovitz’s rather jaunty turn was followed by journalist Anita Busch sobbing on the stand as she testified about how Pellicano allegedly terrorized her on Ovitz’s behalf. This included, she said, leaving her a Mafia-type death threat, which consisted of smashing her car’s windshield and leaving behind a dead fish, a rose and a note saying “Stop,” wiretapping her phones, stealing her e-mail, destroying her computer’s hard drive, and having two men attempt to run her over.

Busch said the men, driving a Mercedes, then pulled alongside her after she’d managed to jump in her car. One made a shushing motion, and then waved a sinister goodbye with just two fingers -- in a motion similar to the menacing “Redrum” fingers in the film “The Shining.”

“I remember thinking I was going to die,” testified Busch. “I remember thinking this is how it ends, at this apartment building. I remember feeling this warm rush down my leg, [and thinking,] ‘Oh my God, I’ve been shot.’ ”

Six years after the alleged events, Busch still seems shaken. It’s a conundrum why Pellicano allegedly singled out Busch. Was it because she was an easier target, a single woman living by herself, as opposed to Weinraub, who happens to be married to Sony Pictures Chairman Amy Pascal? Or was it because Ovitz believed that Busch had a tie with his nemesis Ron Meyer? In the notorious Vanity Fair article, Ovitz fumed (inaccurately) that “Anita Busch plays pool with Ron Meyer three nights a week.”

Obviously, Pellicano is not saying. But during his cross-examination, Pellicano managed to get Busch to repeat her allegations with even more tears.

“After the threats, I could not focus. My sources started falling away from me. . .” Her journalistic career disintegrated. “I saw everything slipping away. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Finally, she flashed some anger.

“There were a number of incidents, one after another. It was a relentless attack, Mr. Pellicano -- as you know.”

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rachel.abramowitz @latimes.com