Miller counted the chairs twice, because the first count had come out wrong
32 places had been set at the long table in the room, and only 30 of them had anyone sitting on them.
The other two held white place cards. PARAMOUNT. MGM.
He was Jack Valenti's assistant at the Motion Picture Association of America or also known, as the MPAA, which basically meant he carried his briefcase around and try to form connections with the studios.
It was October 20, 1981. The room belonged to a Beverly Hills restaurant famous for spanish food and private3 rooms.
Waiters came and went in. On the sideboard sat a telephone with a cord long enough to reach any chair, and ashtrays waited at every side of the table.
Mr. Valenti stood at the head of the table in a dark suit.
He had run the association since 1966, after years at the White House as an aide to the president.
To his right sat Ned Tanen of Universal, and beside him were Bob Daly and Terry Semel, who ran Warner Bros together
Barry Diller of Fox sat with his arms folded and a small frown. At the far end, Sumner Redstone was busy poking his battered shrimps with a fork and said very little.
Redstone owned movie theaters around the US, and Miller knew exactly why he had been invited.
Since 1948, the law had barred the studios from owning the theaters that showed their pictures. A court decision, named for Paramount, had forced the old companies to sell off their chains.
So the people who made the movies needed the people who ran the screens, and that made the man at the end of the table one of the most important people in the room.
"Gentlemen," Mr. Valenti began, "thank you for coming on short notice."
He did not mention the empty chairs, but did glanced at them twice.
The room was filled with old timers mostly, Union Leaders, Producers, Agents and some award organizers.
"Yesterday, a federal appeals court told the country what we've been saying for 5 years, taping a movie off the television is not a harmless matter."
The ruling was a gift, and he wanted it to serve its purpose.
A machine that could record anything on the TV, would empty the theaters and ruin the business.
But fear needed an answer, and for most people at that table, the answer was a disc, Laserdisk.
A Laserdisk, basically looked like a silver record album, a foot wide, and it played a movie through a special machine.
What mattered the most, was what it could not do.
It could not record.
A studio could press a disc, sell it at a profit, and never worry about a customer copying it onto a blank tape.
Tanen cared most. Universal's parent company had spent years and a fortune on the technology, and RCA had launched a rival disc system, SelectaVision just that spring.
The biggest trouble their format faced was not the resolution nor the size of movie it could fit.
In those 2 categories, they actually beat VHS and Betamax.
The problem, was that the players cost several hundred of dollars, while there were only a few titles to play, not to mention that almost nobody in America owned one.
Since almost no one owned one, Studios didnt focus on licensing films for it.
This basically created a cycle of.
Having few titles and couldnt record TV meant both audiences and Video Stores were not interested on LserDisk nor in SelectaVision.
And since Audiences couldnt record, watch the movies they wanted nor rent from the local Video Store, it made audiences even less likely to buy an expensive machine to watch it.
Then since the machine was expensive, and there was not a lot of demand, the company couldnt do economies of scale to lower the cost to the bare minimum.
Tanen raised his glass. "To the disc," he said. "May it live long enough to sell one."
The table laughed, and Miller allowed himself a small smile.
Mr. Valenti waited for it to end, and then his face changed.
"And now," he said, "the gentleman who isn't here."
Nobody moved.
"I invited him personally. His regrets arrived by messenger, and I'm told Eisner, his president is dining with Sony."
He tapped the tablecloth with one finger. "A country boy with a lucky streak."
Miller wrote it down, word for word, because that was his job.
"He sells every household in America the machine that records our pictures," Mr. Valenti continued, "and then he is surprised that we're concerned."
"Gentlemen, remember 'The last capitalist we hang shall be the one who sold us the rope', Connor Hauser may be a good filmmaker but he's too focused on money and will end up hurting the industry."
The line had been practiced in advance. Miller could tell, because he had typed an earlier draft of it.
"And I'll tell you how he got United Artists," Mr. Valenti went on, lowering his voice. "Kirk Kerkorian doesn't sell anything under his price unless somebody leans on him."
"Jack," Redstone said mildly, "Kirk got a good price."
"Kirk got a price that closed his mouth. That's a different thing."
Then Mr. Valenti did something Miller had not typed.
"I have a friend at the Bureau," he said quietly. "He tells me they went to Paramount to ask some questions after the fire at the MGM Grand."
The room went silent in a way he had never heard before.
Redstone put down his bread.
"Best not to discuss rumours, Jack."
"You always have to look for who benefits, I'm only saying..."
"I know what you're saying. Don't say it here. Say it in your house."
Tanen cleared his throat. "Nobody at this table believes it. Our conflict with Duke is mostly an economical matter. I would also like to discuss for Paramount to leave some avenues for the other studios or at least to collab with the industry."
Mr. Valenti lifted a hand to admit he understood the matter. Nobody wanted to be the first to step out and get on Duke's line of fire.
Still the MGM Grand fire, was strange to say the least, but Miller suspected his boss of being too paranoid about Mr. Hauser.
Miller did agree, that it was better to be careful.
The current Administration was heavily related to Paramount, and its not like Duke hasnt deal with people behind the scenes before.
Columbia had taken a massive hit after he sold their stock and one of his newspapers exposed a Check forging scandal that directly ousted David Begelman as Columbia Pictures president.
The waiters brought some new plates. Nobody ate quickly.
Miller's own plate stayed on the sideboard, untouched.
"Jack," Tanen said at last, putting down his fork, "let me say something as a friend."
"Please."
"I can't fight him. I'd like to. I can't."
There were nods around the table, small ones, the kind people make when someone else says the thing first.
Miller understood why.
Every department-store buyer in America who ordered video recorders for Christmas also ordered Atari consoles, and the Atari order was bigger.
A buyer could ignore a studio lawsuit, but they would not give up the Console market.
"If I go to war with that company," Tanen said, "my phone either stops ringing or won't stop ringing. No shareholder would want to see it either."
"Warner already sells tapes of our own movies," Semel added, in his practical voice. "We make money every month with this, Jack."
"Look if you can convince Paramount to not publish their movies on VHS then we will also stop, How about that?" Bob Daly said, checking around if anyone had started eating or whether they would wait to finish discussion first.
It was true, a movie on cassette cost fifty dollars or more, far too much for most families to buy, so shops had begun renting them for a few dollars a night.
Good movies were a great item for studios to sell, when they announced their movies going into VHS, they even got a small boost on their stock.
Mr. Valenti looked at Redstone. "Sumner?"
Redstone considered it. "I booked Clash of the Titans wide in June because you asked me. I gave it more screens than that Raiders picture... and I'd do it again, dont get me wrong."
"And?"
"And I've been doing this for a long time, Jack. When a picture fills my theaters, it tells me something. People will go wherever the good movies are. Not to mention, I lost money with your move."
Nobody argued.
"Nobody here wants to fight him, either," Tanen added.
Mr. Valenti closed his eyes briefly. Then he open them and change the subject.
"Then let's talk about what has been done," he said.
It was a longer list than Miller expected.
Clash of the Titans had received its wide release because Mr. Valenti had asked exhibitor leaders to open it wide.
It had still lost.
Newspapers had been encouraged to wonder whether video games made children stupid or violent.
A few psychologists had been quoted, and a few small towns had even passed rules about arcades near schools.
Agents had been asked to be slow about returning Paramount's calls.
A few columnists had been given a story to hint at in the weeks before the Oscars.
It was all small, and none of it left too many trails.
A town in Texas had passed an ordinance keeping children out of arcades during school hours.
None of it had worked. Arcades were full, the Atari consoles were selling out, and the Raiders crowds had not thinned.
"There's no angle on him," Diller said finally.
It was the first thing he had said all night, and everyone turned.
"Look, I worked with the man and believe me. He has a clean story, a drafted soldier who came home and built something. Not to mention, his publicists answer the telephone before it finishes ringing."
"The gossip pages?" Mr. Valenti asked.
"They run his dinner dates, and the public loves it. If we call him a playboy, nobody really cares." Diller shrugged. "You can't attack a man the public enjoys."
"Then what sticks?" Redstone asked.
Nobody answered at first.
"Gilded Age style of Monopolist," Semel offered at last.
"A Rockefeller of media," Diller said, thinking it for a moment.
Mr. Valenti repeated it slowly, tasting it. In 1911 the Supreme Court had broken Standard Oil into pieces, and the public had cheered.
People still disliked a story about a man who owned too much.
"That," he said, "I can take to Congress."
"And if he comes to Washington himself?" Daly asked.
"Then we'll meet him there," Mr. Valenti said, "Remember, I was in Washington, before he ever set foot on Hollywood."
He rubbed his hands together. The hearings would come in the spring, and Duke would need to testify in congress too, he would make sure of it.
___
Had family over and coudlnt publish.