Live From New York - James H. Miller [108]
I called Lorne and we went to dinner and wound up over at his apartment, and we sat there basically all night talking. And I honestly believe it’s one of the five or six most important nights in the history of the show, because I’d hired Lorne when we were first sitting in L.A. putting it all together back in the spring of ’75. I said, “Lorne, I’m willing to do this only if you’ll bless it.” He just had to put the word out. Anyway, around five or six in the morning he finally said, “I do want to see it go on. I won’t go back, but I will completely support it.”
And that word was out by the time Lorne woke up the next afternoon.
LORNE MICHAELS:
Michael O’Donoghue’s manager, a guy named Barry Secunda, explained to me the simple fact that Michael had no money. And Michael was very proud, but he really needed a job. Barry wanted to know if I would speak to Ebersol on his behalf, which I did. Of course, the very first thing Michael did was to meet with everyone and say, “We have to obliterate Lorne Michaels, we have to pour gasoline on him and set him afire.” And then he burned some picture of me. Pretty soon after, he was fired.
I love Michael. And I would have expected no less. It wasn’t as if I helped him thinking I’d get the thanks of a grateful nation. After all, it was Michael. Of the three of us — the senior three males in the first months of the show — Chevy went on to fame and stardom, I got what I got, and Michael wanted more performance time. The rewards for him weren’t as great as he felt he deserved.
DICK EBERSOL:
Lorne told me I should hire Michael. He persuaded me it would be a good idea. O’Donoghue thought the show was shit and he thought the people involved were shit. He wanted to give it a “Viking funeral.” He was going to be, quote, “in charge of the writing staff.”
Since Ebersol was determined that the show regain its lost luster as well as its lost ratings, it may seem odd for him to have installed O’Donoghue as head writer, especially since O’Donoghue was so fond of proclaiming Saturday Night Live dead. But what made him attractive to Ebersol is that he represented a link to Lorne Michaels and his era, and Ebersol was anxious to establish such links. Few were available, but O’Donoghue had been a very conspicuous and productive presence during those first five years. Ebersol wanted to be a member of that club, and O’Donoghue seemed one way — however risky — to gain acceptance. It would be a recurring theme of Ebersol’s stewardship.
NEIL LEVY:
Dick wanted to be Lorne, basically. The first words out of Dick’s mouth to the writers was, he broke them into two teams at the first meeting and said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. I have two ideas and we’re going to make short films. And half of you are going to do this one idea and the other half are going to do this idea about a bag lady.” I forget what the first idea was. And the writers kind of scratched their heads — a bag lady? What’s funny about that? But Dick said to go and do it.
So the team of writers for the bag lady did whatever their short film was and it was shot and Denny Dillon was in it and it came back and it was a disaster, totally unusable. And O’Donoghue was sitting there smoking one of those long brown cigarettes with his hat and sunglasses on and he said, “Well, it’s all there on the screen.” Something like that. It was a huge embarrassment to Dick, because it was the first thing he had asked for and it was his idea and