LOS ANGELES -- At age 85, the legendary Hollywood executive Lew Wasserman still has an office on the top floor of Universal Studios' infamous Black Tower, the foreboding glass edifice from which he wielded power for decades. He still holds court each day in the Universal commissary.
But it has been a few years since Universal was the domain of the tough, tightfisted ex-talent agent with the giant horn-rimmed glasses. The sale of the company to a Japanese electronics firm weakened his grip. The subsequent sale to a Canadian beverage firm turned him into a figurehead, with only his former employees to carry on.And this past week, the last important vestige of the Wasserman era was eliminated when Universal parent Seagram Co. ousted Universal Pictures chairman Casey Silver, a 12-year company veteran going back to when Universal was called MCA and Wasserman reigned supreme.
The ostensible reason for Silver's forced resignation was the dismal state of the film studio. Two important -- and expensive -- late fall films, "Babe: Pig in the City" and "Meet Joe Black," flopped at their openings, as have so many other Universal films during the last 18 months. But there probably was more to it than last Monday's announcement revealed. Silver's departure relates to a move by Edgar Bronfman Jr., CEO of Seagram Co., to increase his role in Seagram's entertainment businesses as the company undergoes a major restructuring.
"As long as any of Lew's minions from the MCA era continued to occupy even a single office in the upper reaches of the Black Tower, Bronfman could not lay claim to the Universal empire," says Dennis McDougal, author of "The Last Mogul," a new biography of Wasserman. "Now, it's his. Whatever happens from here on out, Bronfman either gets all the blame or all the credit."
Universal Studios is at another important crossroads in its 86-year-history: Its past shows that the recent corporate convulsions are not unique. Its future is a favorite subject of Hollywood gossip.
It was in 1915 that movie pioneer Carl Laemmle began building Universal City, 230 acres of soundstages and outdoor shooting areas in the San Fernando Valley, just over the hill from Hollywood. By the time it was done, it would be its own little movie-making community, with a post office, lakes and permanent sets.
During the silent era, Universal had such stars as Rudolph Valentino and Lon Chaney; in the early and mid-'30s it found success with horror films such as "Dracula," "The Invisible Man," and "Frankenstein;" and at the end of the '30s its money problems were sung away by Deanna Durbin in popular musicals.
Exotic B-pictures like "Arabian Nights" and "Cobra Woman" kept the studio going in the 1940s, and Abbott and Costello sustained it through much of the '50s. But financial woes struck again at the end of that decade, and Wasserman, who ran the powerful MCA talent agency, was circling.
MCA first bought the land and buildings, then the production operation, but had to get rid of the talent agency in 1962 under the pressure of a federal antitrust investigation.
For much of the Wasserman era, the studio soared.
The 1970s brought the hits "The Sting," "National Lampoon's Animal House" and "Airport," and 1975's "Jaws" cemented a rich relationship with Steven Spielberg that would yield such blockbusters as "E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial" and "Jurassic Park."
Universal Studios as a theme park attracted so many tourists that the company built another in Orlando, Fla. The television division flourished, specializing in one-hour dramas.
By the 1980s, Wasserman and MCA president and chief operating officer Sidney Sheinberg made for a fearsome partnership: tough, cost-conscious, powerful. But as the 90s neared, they lacked the ultra-deep pockets of the other entertainment giants, like the emerging Time Warner.
In 1990, in a deal brokered by former super-agent Michael Ovitz, MCA was sold to Japan's Matsushita Electric Industrial Co., and it would doom Wasserman. The new bosses balked at Wasserman's plans for expansion into broadcast television and other ventures and soon the Japanese were looking to get out.
By 1995, Ovitz was brokering another deal, this one behind Wasserman's back, by which Bronfman and Seagram would purchase MCA. An 80 percent stake in MCA went to Seagram Co. for $5.7 billion. MCA was renamed Universal Studios, and Wasserman lost day-to-day control.
For his management team, Bronfman courted Ovitz, but the deal fell through, reportedly over Ovitz's asking price of more than $200 million. Bronfman hired Ovitz's former partner at Creative Artists Agency, Ron Meyer, as the new president of Universal Studios, and former Viacom chief executive Frank Biondi Jr. as the Universal Studios CEO.
It was not a smooth transition, and this year was particularly tough.
Wasserman left the board of directors in February (he now only holds the honorary title of chairman emeritus). "Primary Colors" tanked in March. April saw four major resignations: production president Marc Platt, marketing chiefs Kathy Jones and Buffy Shutt and corporate operations VP Howard Weitzman.
Biondi's job security had been in question since last fall when Bronfman, without consulting him, sold most of Universal's TV assets to one of his mentors, Barry Diller. For Biondi, whose strength was in television, it was a blow.
Then Bronfman, seeking a strong company focus on music, went shopping for a record label, again without major involvement by Biondi.
Last month, Biondi was forced to bail out with a golden parachute worth between $25 million and $30 million.
Bronfman, meanwhile, reached a deal to buy PolyGram, the world's largest record company, for $10.4 billion -- with more layoffs and other upheaval to follow as the companies are merged.
Then he turned his sights on the troubled film studio, headed by that MCA holdover, Silver. In three years running the film studio, Silver had enjoyed some commercial and critical success with such films as "Apollo 13," "Schindler's List," "The Nutty Professor" and "Born on the Fourth of July." But the last year had been hitless. Then, on the heels of the disastrous openings of "Meet Joe Black" and "Pig in the City," Silver was the next to go, with his boss, Meyer, taking over his responsibilities.
Now, Hollywood is watching the latest chapter unfold: the operation of Universal under a more hands-on Bronfman, who until a few years ago never ran an entertainment company, and Meyer, who until now never ran a movie studio.
"I'm actually looking forward to doing this, believe it or not," Meyer told The Associated Press. He joked that one adjustment will be that "I've got to start work earlier and leave later."
He said he was optimistic about the upcoming slate of films that Silver greenlighted, including this weekend's "Psycho" remake, "Patch Adams" with Robin Williams, "edTV" from director Ron Howard, "Bowfinger's Big Thing" with Eddie Murphy and Steve Martin, the Arnold Schwarzenegger action film "End of Days," and the Andy Kaufman biopic "Man on the Moon," starring Jim Carrey.
But exactly how things will be different without Silver wasn't clear; Meyer spoke generally about a "change in the dynamics" at the top.
"There is a difference in people's styles, and I do think we needed the change," he said.
Officials from Seagram didn't respond to a request for comment. Wasserman also declined to comment.
One of Meyer's top duties will be to nurture Universal's relationships with its producing partners, who include Will Smith, Tom Hanks, and Imagine, the company run by Howard and partner Brian Grazer.
So far, there are no signs these key players have been spooked by the corporate upheaval.
"I think I know Ron Meyer and Edgar Bronfman well enough that it allows Imagine to strongly believe in them and support them," said Grazer. "We believe that our product will be served effectively."