Lots of stories to tell regarding the journey that led to LADY IN WHITE. What was, by far, the most difficult period related to the saga of LADY IN WHITE was the year spent, after the film's completion, finding and negotiating a distribution deal. Virtually every major and minor distribution company had turned the picture down.
The only “offer” that I can recall receiving (prior to finally putting together the deals that allowed us to re-coup the film's $4.7 million budget and pocket close to another $3 million in future earnings) came from a company called Vestron. They offered us a $120,000 cash advance against a participation in future earnings for world wide rights. A “participation” that was guaranteed to allow us to to see absolutely nothing more had I signed on. It was a typical, boiler-plate, “back-end” deal that would have allowed them to periodically send us statements that would inevitably reflect the film's being forever in “the red” and robbing us of any possibility of profiting from it. (You are allowed, dear reader, to visualize the term “back-end” as a more colloquial “bend over and take it up the ass” because that is, essentially, what it means.)
I said no. About the only other possibility at that moment and time was MIRAMAX.So, I fly to N.Y. to screen the picture for HARVEY AND BOB WEINSTEIN.
Miramax, at that time, was not the hugely celebrated “studio” it was to become. That only happened after their success with another “pick-up”, “Cinema Paradiso”, that happened perhaps a year to a year and a half later.
Harvey and Bob “loved” the film and set-up a meeting for myself and my assistant at the time (and right arm) Lorie Zerweck at their offices the next day. They told me that they were going to prepare a written offer and asked if I could stick around New York for a little while so they could draft it up and present it to me personally. I told them that the offer would have to include a hefty cash advance and that a typical “back-end” deal would not be acceptable and that under no circumstance would the picture's current form or “cut” be altered in any way. They told me that they were sure that they would be able to accommodate.
In the interim, Harvey invites me to a screening of a picture they had recently “picked-up” titled “I've Heard the Mermaids Singing” at Lincoln Center. So, I go. The auditorium is packed and once the film ends, Harvey struts on stage to conduct a question and answer with the film's star, director and producer. I'm all the while seated in the last row, settling in for the Q&A. Weinstein, quiets down the audience to begin. “Before we start, I just have to acknowledge that we have in our audience tonight, a young director whose extraordinary film I saw a couple of days ago. His name is Frank LaLoggia and, believe me folks, you're going to be hearing a lot about him in years to come. Frank, stand up and take a bow!” Everybody turns to seek me out and I am forced to comply, but only with a wave while remaining seated.
The gobsmacked filmmakers, rightfully the “stars” of the evening, sat up there on stage, dumbfounded. I could feel their “arrows” fly directly at me and felt like a pin cushion taking every stab.
And I was LIVID. Not about them, but about that shit head (Weinstein) thinking that he could appeal to my ego and soften me up in such a blatant manner in the hopes of cajoling me into signing the picture over.
After a couple of more days passed, I'm called to a meeting with the brothers at the Plaza Hotel. They present me with the proposed deal: NO cash advance. Boiler plate “back-end” deal as described. AND...Harvey and I would re-cut the picture to our mutual satisfaction. I (as politely as possible) said no and Lorie and I flew back to L.A.
Years later, I tried repeatedly to contact Harvey regarding my project, THE GIANT, the story of Michelangelo's creation of The David. By then, Miramax was big time and it seemed to me, the sort of project that they might be interested in. Not even a return call.
AN ELEPHANT NEVER FORGETS: AND NEITHER DID ANY NUMBER OF WOMEN WHO SERVED HIM HIS JUST DESERTS.
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