Bluhdorn

"Somewhere in the middle of that animated discussion, Leonard Goldberg returned and peered into my office. He later told people proudly, “There was this big mogul and my little assistant yelling at each other while devouring pastrami sandwiches—who knew?” Somehow, defending what I thought was right and fair for my company, I became fearless, while at the same time I was able to calibrate just how far I could go. I never came off as arrogant or disrespectful to Bluhdorn, but I was able to hold firm against his tidal wave of aggression. In that negotiation, I found out something about myself that has surprised me ever since. I actually love confrontation. Arguing principles forcefully, loudly, and passionately was becoming the definition of me. As long as I wasn’t arguing “self,” I was fearless."

"In I walked, not only having never been in Mr. Goldenson’s office, but never having spoken to him again after our meeting in the elevator on my first day at the company. Bluhdorn had the energy of an electric grid and could hardly keep his seat as Goldenson told me they’d agreed ABC would buy a group of Paramount movies. Goldenson handed me the list and instructed me simply, “Follow up.”"

"All through that summer of 1974, there was a Shakespearean plot developing around this triangle of outsized personalities. Neither Charlie nor Yablans/Evans ever knew that I was surreptitiously talking to Andy Tobias. When I heard from Andy how vicious Yablans was in characterizing Bluhdorn, my motivation was to do as much as I could to make certain Charlie wouldn’t be unfairly or negatively portrayed. Hard going given the delectable tidbits Yablans was throwing out. Andy told me Charlie wouldn’t agree to be interviewed, so it was up to me to be his defender. It never once occurred to me that I was helping to open a door I would soon be walking through. And, anyway, I was awfully busy just trying to save my ABC schedule from disaster."

"Bluhdorn insisted: “You’ve got to take all of them.” The kernel of an idea forming, I asked if he planned to make new movies at Paramount or if he was just going to strip-mine the assets. That got him all frothy again and he bellowed, “Do you think I’m some small-time player? I’m going to revive Paramount and make it the biggest studio in town!” (And, he did.) I pounced on this and said, “Great. We’ll agree to contract all those films if we have the right to swap the new movies for the old turkeys. In other words, I’ll guarantee the dollars, betting you’ll make better movies we can successfully run, which will partially offset the costs of making them, since these old movies are basically worthless.” While I didn’t fully understand it at the time, this was exactly the concept Bluhdorn had used to build up Gulf + Western: trading the made-up paper value of his stock and using it to buy better assets than the crummy ones he’d been able to buy at the beginning."

"“Everyone at this pathetic company I just bought is an idiot, so just call me,” Bluhdorn said. I couldn’t believe this giant industrialist wanted to handle this by himself. What I didn’t know was that Paramount was a vanity buy for him, opposed by his board. Until now all the other bread-and-nickel businesses he’d acquired had always been bought below book value. The only way he could justify buying the studio was to sell the television rights to its library of movies at a price close to what he’d paid for the whole company, a conniver’s connivance."